


A Stoic Mind; A Bleeding Heart

by aybeexinfinity



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Inception - Freeform, Pining, Smut, metal bending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aybeexinfinity/pseuds/aybeexinfinity
Summary: Saria, a metal-bender, is hired by Eames for a job and finds herself drawn deep into the team's world.
Relationships: Arthur/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Hired

It was funny, how you could find such comfort in routine. How reassuring a feeling it was to do something in a sequential order. Was it an element of familiarity that made it standard? Whatever the cause I enjoyed this little game of dressing up for the customers. First impressions are everything, as I’d been told a thousand times before. Red lipstick to catch the eye, black liner to make the eyes pop, a hint of blush, and a casual dress to accentuate the femininity. As if they wouldn’t know I was I girl. As if my gender had anything at all to do with the quality of my service. But this was a part of the gig. This was how it went every time and this was what led to the job and eventually the money, so I humoured them.  
  
The light above the television changed from red to yellow, which meant I was officially on standby. I flicked off my music, put away my makeup, and pulled the zipper all the way up the back of my dress. My hair came out of its ponytail holder, and a bit of perfume found its way onto the important parts: neck, behind the ears, wrist, and chest. When I was entirely ready for my audition I sat on the bed and watched the lights. Somewhere outside the reclaimed hotel a flock of birds were chirping up a storm. I could’ve been out on the balcony watching them or down in the courtyard relaxing or in the basement going for a swim, but business was picking up to the point where we were getting days of double bookings going back to back. I was just glad I wasn’t the one who had to keep track of it all.  
  
With the gentle noise of wind chimes the light turned green and I got to my feet. Straightening the dress one last time, I checked my reflection before heading out to the elevator. Stephen was waiting for me when I got to the main floor, hands folded behind his back as usual and the light reflecting off the bald spot on his head. He motioned for me to go ahead and I walked alongside him to the meeting room.  
  
The client was standing with his back to us, an expensive suit on that he adjusted while looking at the fountain. There was a briefcase lying on the leather couch that no doubt contained the initial payment. Stephen smiled at me and I forced the gesture onto my own face, tucking a bit of hair behind my ear as he cleared his throat.  
  
“Mister Eames, this is Saria. The best money can buy on this side of the globe.”  
  
The client smirked, holding out his hand and keeping his eyes trained on me. When I moved mine out to shake his, he brought the back of my hand to his lips. I tried not to laugh at his antics, knowing how some of these men responded.  
  
“Saria.” He repeated the name in a drawn out way before sliding his hands into his pockets. “Well aren’t you just the whole package, hm?”  
  
“What can I do for you, Mister Eames?” I asked politely, lacing my fingers in front of me. He took a seat on the couch while Stephen and I sat across from him.  
  
“Nothing extensive. Small group, good pay, your average extraction job. Our point-man found some extensive sub-security and I’ve always wanted to dabble in this sort of thing.” He had a toothpick that he kept pressed between his teeth, fingering the end of it like someone who was having a hard time leaving the cigarettes behind. He was too focused on me to understand that my audition began the minute I entered the room, and by the time he got around to the expected question I was already finished. “So do I get a bit of a tease before I sign away my money, darling?”  
  
“Well that all depends.” I smirked, making all the metal bits that comprised his expensive watch float in front of his face. “Do you want to sign before or after I repair your watch?”  
  
“Nice,” he nodded “Very nice. I’m assuming you’re capable of more than a few parlour tricks, though.”  
  
“Saria is our most experienced warper. She’s had almost five years of nonstop jobs and a 99% success rate.” Stephen explained, sitting back in the chair with a smug look on his face. “Now you try finding something as reliable as that with looks like this, am I right?”  
  
“Fair enough.” Eames said, switching the toothpick to the other side of his mouth and pulling a pen out of his pocket. “Shall we talk details?”  
  
“What sort of timeline were you thinking for the job? I need to know some specifics of the other people involved—just basic security questions.” Stephen turned to me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “Sweetheart why don’t you go get your things while we work out the details? The contract will be ready to sign by the time you’re back.”  
  
I did as I was told, retreating to the elevator while the two of them went to the front desk to get a form. In my closet there was a pre-packed suitcase that would last me two weeks before I needed to do any laundry. We were always sent away when it came time to discussing the details because for some reason Stephen thought it would make the clients more comfortable. It felt a lot like prostitution, the way he told the girls to handle themselves. The men were trained in a very different way but were sent away at this time all the same. We just sat here beside the suitcase waiting for the light to turn green again.  
  
It was a much shorter wait than usual but it was a relief; the introductions to the team were always the worst part. I had to spend the first while drawing the line and setting the boundaries and making it very clear that despite Stephen’s teasing the only services being paid for involved warping metal against any enemies. It was much easier if one of the members was female, but that was an increasingly rare sight in this line of work. Even the architects were starting to revert to their male-dominated roots.  
  
I met the two of them in the lobby, taking the established contract and looking it over. The job would only take a week, but the pay was much more than usual. It made me a little skeptical about the outline of the job but I signed anyways, keeping one copy for myself, handing one to Stephen, and the other to Eames.  
  
“Have a safe trip.” Stephen smiled, shaking hands with Eames and patting me on the shoulder. The man held the front door open for me and took the suitcase from my grasp. It was definitely a rare occurrence, so I enjoyed it while I could. He had a black Infiniti waiting in the parking lot, the standard fancy car for dream thieves.  
  
“So how did you hear about us?” I asked as he sped along the highway. He looked comfortable in this kind of situation: a dangerous one. If the car crashed at the speed we were going it would be instantly fatal, but he couldn’t have been more relaxed.  
  
“Friend of mine from Mombassa told me warpers were the best protection he’d ever used. So I did a little searching and your name was on everyone’s Christmas list. How long have you been doing this again?”  
  
“Six years. I’ve only been dream sharing for as long, but it isn’t hard to get used to when you’re going under every week. Sometimes it feels like I’ve lived long enough to be dead already.” It was a joke, of course, but he seemed much more concerned than amused. An emotion I was never supposed to elicit. I could tell from the way he composed himself and quickly replaced the frowning of his eyebrows with a complacent look that he must be the forger. “Who’s the lead extractor?”  
  
“Dominic Cobb.” He said simply, as if it wasn’t the most exciting possible answer he could’ve given me. I turned to him wide eyed, dropping all pretense of professionalism.  
  
“You mean _the_ Dominic Cobb? One of the world’s greatest extractors in the history of dream sharing?”  
  
“And what, no one cares about Eames the world’s greatest forger then, hm?” He teased, smirking at me again. It was strange to be this comfortable around one of them. Even stranger for me to actually be excited for a job. I hadn’t had this much anticipation since I first started dream sharing. But for the first time in what felt like decades I wasn’t getting a bad vibe from this guy. He was being casual, not overbearing. He didn’t make the usual remark about his surprise regarding my gender and my acclaimed abilities. He was different, and I only hoped that the other team members would be the same.  
  
“Well it certainly explains the paycheck.” I joked as he merged off the highway. It wasn’t a far drive to the tourist district: an entire strip of nothing but hotels, restaurants, and little entertainment plazas. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that he pulled into the most expensive hotel in the area: it was everyone’s dream to work for Cobb at some point in their dream sharing career—no matter what part you played. Not only for the experience and bragging rights, but everything was high class with him and whatever team he chose.  
  
Valet service took the car and I followed Eames through the crowds of business men and women donning diamonds and fancy handbags until we reached the elevators. I tried to contain my excitement as we went up to the penthouse suite, musing as the doors opened into a wholly private corridor with only one door to enter. Eames slid the key card and held the door for me, watching me with amusement as I took in the sight of the place.  
  
It was everything you expect these infamous penthouse suites to look like. I’d been in one before a few years back but it wasn’t nearly as big as this one. The entire south facing wall was glass, boasting a brilliant view of the cityscape, especially all the casinos across the street with their fountains and their neon lights. The kitchen was as big as my entire apartment back at headquarters with all of high-end finishes that only money could buy. There was a huge living area complete with fireplace, aquarium, and animal skin rugs. Hallways extended on either side that would no doubt lead to the bedrooms, one of which would be mine.  
  
In the middle of the room there were two men. One had a mop of thick black curls on his head and caramel skin that alluded to the East. The other was thin with slicked back hair and delicacy to the way his thoughts acted out through his fingers. The latter of the two was putting a photograph of a building up on a board—the type of organizational device usually used on these heist gigs to keep everything in order. They turned in unison to greet their colleague but froze at the sight of me.  
  
“Who’s this?” The one with the curls asked.  
  
“This, my dear friends, is our protection.” Eames said with a grin, wholly ignoring the looks on their faces. He shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over the couch before crossing to a bowl of almonds on the counter and grabbing a handful. “Took your advice and checked out one of those specialists you mentioned.”  
  
“You actually _found_ one?” He asked incredulously, wandering a few steps towards me. The other man was frowning at the other two, clearly behind on the exchange.  
  
“Found one what?” He finally spoke, looking from me to the others.  
  
“It wasn’t a bloody jigsaw puzzle, Yusuf.” Eames chided, ignoring the third member completely. “Did you think they were a fairy tale? Besides I didn’t just find one. I found the _best_.”  
  
“I’m not the best, Mister Eames.” I challenged, taking a seat at the bar while Yusuf walked up to me, arms across his chest and a look of pure amazement. “But I do what I can.”  
  
“Can someone please explain to me what exactly is going on?” The third one said, wandering closer.  
  
“She’s a warper. I thought it’d be a nice change from our usual run.” Eames went back for the entire bowl of almonds and took a seat on the couch. Craning his neck back towards me he nodded towards Yusuf. “If you don’t show him a trick soon the poor boy’ll start drooling.”  
  
“I’m a warper,” I began to explain to the third man as I pulled the metal décor around the ceiling light down to my level, molding it into a series of concentric circles in front of his face. “It means I can control anything with metal within it—more importantly, I can stop all those pesky bullets that sub-security likes to fire at you.”  
  
“I know what a warper is.” The third man said pensively, watching the metal as it twisted in the air. “Eames, I know we said we needed to step up the security but are you sure this is the answer? I mean…I’ve heard about the conditions some of these people are kept in.”  
  
“With all due respect sir, I’m treated just fine.” I assured him before morphing the metal into more complex shapes. His eyes travelled over me, as if searching for some sign to the contrary. For bruises or behavioural ticks or nervous twitches that would somehow indicate abuse. A regular Sherlock Holmes. “You’re the point man, I’m assuming?”  
  
“Arthur.” He finally moved from his spot across the room and extended his hand for me to shake. He watched the metal as it continued to morph despite my distraction. Yusuf was grinning ear to ear.  
  
“Saria.”  
  
“You’re brilliant.” Yusuf mused, hurrying to shake my hand as well. “Absolutely brilliant. I’ve heard stories about the things you can do but—but I never thought I’d be able to see anything first hand.”  
  
“Just wait till you see what I can do with some bullets.” I smirked. The door creaked open and I turned to see the man himself, Dominic Cobb. But he took one look at me before raising his gun. It was an automatic reflex that whenever a gun was pointed at me I rendered it useless, and so before I could even think my actions through the weapon was dismantled into all its various pieces and hovering before his face. He frowned before closing the door behind him.  
  
“Sorry.” I mumbled, putting the thing back together and setting it on the table beside him. I made quick work of putting the metal from the light fixture back to its original state but Cobb was still staring at me.  
  
“Relax Dom, I found us a bodyguard.” Eames didn’t seem bothered in the slightest: as if already he trusted I could handle myself in such a situation. Regardless of Eames’ words, Dom’s eyes were still burning on me. It made something inside of me itch. I wanted instant adoration, not this cold hostility. I wanted him to be overwhelmingly impressed by my talents, not recoiling from my existence.  
  
“Take her back.” He said simply, finally taking his eyes off of me. He reclaimed the gun and continued on through the suite as if that somehow settled everything. Eames immediately got up and followed after him while the others looked on.  
  
“Take her back? She’s fantastic, you should see her—”  
  
“I refuse to support organizations like the ones that she works for.” Dom said sternly, stopping in his tracks and staring Eames in the face. “If you’d seen some of the things those men do to their employees, you wouldn’t have wasted your time. People have _died_ Eames. They get beaten into submission and sold into these things. It’s human trafficking and I can’t support that.”  
  
“Cobb I went to the place myself, you don’t think I wasn’t looking for that sort of thing?” Eames said in his defense. Cobb sighed and turned to me.  
  
“I’m very sorry we wasted your time, Ma’am. I’m afraid this just won’t work out.”  
  
“Does my word mean nothing?” I found myself saying, forgetting completely who it was that I was talking to. “You’re right about some of the other organizations but mine didn’t steal me or force me into anything. They took me in off the streets where I would have died. They’ve treated me fairly and never subjected me to any job I didn’t want to take. I can leave any time that I want and I’ve never been mistreated by any of my managers or colleagues. Mister Cobb, I came here to do a job and I guarantee I can protect you all better than you can protect yourselves—in the dream and out of it.”  
  
“Would you give us a moment, please?” He asked calmly of the others, standing in the hallway until they all disappeared to their respective sections of the suite. He set down his bag and walked over to me, motioning for me to sit beside him on the couch. For a moment he was quiet and just stared down at the table, but eventually he turned to me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Saria, if—if they’ve told you that you need to lie…”  
  
“I give you my word that they are _not_ those kind of people. I’m a metal warper, Mister Cobb. Even with their tricks if they were harming me they would have been dead long ago.” I said honestly, praying that he accepted it. Not a single part of me was willing to let the chance of working with him slip through my fingers. He sighed, studying me for a while as if judging my character. I sat silently and let him make his decision.  
  
“You understand the risks of the job?” He said finally, exhaling heavily as if uncertain of his choice. I couldn’t help but laugh at the notion of risk.  
  
“The way I see it I’m running just as much risk as you—probably less.” I reasoned, evoking the smallest of smiles out of him. “But to answer your question, yes I understand. I’ve already signed up a contract with Mister Eames if you’d like to go over it.”  
  
“I’m sure it’s fine.” He mumbled before calling the others back in. The fact that I was still sitting there seemed to be explanation enough of the turn of events, so everyone sat around me as Cobb moved to the board covered with the information on the target. “Walter Mince is our mark. Our employer is Mister Mince’s grandfather, the owner of Roxcor Limited. He believes his grandson has some guilty knowledge of how their leading competitor came to know the exact process they use to manufacture their product. He wants us to find out if he’s innocent or not.”  
  
“Every man is guilty of all the good he didn’t do.” I said absently, eyes scanning over the board. The couch shifted slightly as the point man turned to me, one eyebrow raised.  
  
“Voltaire?” He cited the source of the quote and I nodded.  
  
“He always sounds so much more elegant in French.”  
  
“He’s hard enough to get through in English.” He remarked with amusement. I laughed at him but returned my attention to the board.  
  
“Maybe you should get a French-English dictionary.”  
  
“Can we focus on the subject, darlings?”  
  
“We’ll have time to go into more detail later;” Dom began. “What I’m more interested in is to see the extent of your…abilities, if that’s alright with you.”  
  
“My favourite part.” I smirked, leaning back against the couch as he pulled out a PASIV machine. Arthur gathered needles for the three of us on the couch—including Yusuf—and distributed them. I got comfortable and turned my wrist over to prepare for the needle.  
  
“What happened there?” Arthur asked with wide eyes as he studied my wrist. There were three equally spaced needle marks in a vertical line that were permanently raised. The skin was darker around the marks and the veins that branched out were dark. I brushed off his concern and picked one before sliding in the needle.  
  
“I go under frequently, it takes its toll on the body.” I explained before frowning at his expression. “It doesn’t hurt or anything. Really, I’m fine.”  
  
When everyone was in place Yusuf pressed the button that released the sedatives and I forced myself to relax. My eyes closed and I counted backwards from 10. I remembered getting to four, but there was the warmth of a sunny day and the cool breeze tainted with the smell of food trucks and hot dog stands. When I could see again I was in the middle of the city’s financial district, surrounded by skyscrapers and intricately architected buildings and a plethora of someone’s subconscious. Before I tried anything I took the totem out of my pocket, watching as the antique compass spun around and around and around with no sign of ending. Proof I was dreaming.  
  
“Well, no point in being shy.” I said aloud as the others gathered beside me. To the left there was a small park—if you could even call it that, it was more of a fenced in lawn with a fountain and a few benches. I tore the metal out of the fountain, pulling it towards me and morphing it into intricately designed rings that I fit onto all of their fingers before moving through the city. “We’re working in your mind, right Mister Cobb?”  
  
“That’s right. My subconscious should turn violent if you mess around with the place enough.”  
  
“Let’s turn it up to eleven.” I wiggled my eyebrows at them before getting a feeling for a four block radius. I singled out all the metal I could sense and began to play with the structure of the buildings. One of the buildings nearest to us had glass panelling that ran up all twenty floors. A metal staircase ran parallel to the elevator shaft, so I pulled the entire thing through the glass and made it start at my feet. “Shall we?”  
  
I went a few steps up and let every get on before moving the steps we were on up the staircase all the way to the roof of the building. We had a great view of the city from here, so I went to work at shifting the metal framework of the buildings. It went from rigid towers to curving waves; an ocean of metal that moved at my will.  
  
“Brilliant.” Yusuf breathed, wandering right up to the edge of the roof. He looked over and then back at me. “Could you let me walk out? Like make a bridge or something?”  
  
With a smile I indulged him, taking some of the stairs and flattening them out into a walkway that he got onto. I made indents where his feet were and put up some hand-railings for him to hold onto before sending him out between the buildings. He was grinning ear to ear, looking down at the people below and at the buildings that curved in upon themselves. Holding out his arms, he let out a cry of excitement.  
  
Eames came up beside me, watching Yusuf closely before shoving me hard. I nearly stumbled but I kept my balance—and more importantly, my focus. Arthur was giving him a stern look but it wasn’t hard to figure out his motives. Eames nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Cobb.  
  
“Not bad.” He said, wandering in front of me and watching while my fingers commanded the metal around us. I was getting ready to do some more fancy work with the surroundings when I felt a shift in the environment. Without hesitation I smoothly brought Yusuf back to the roof and turned to the adjacent building.  
  
“Here’s where the fun begins.” I barely finished speaking when a crew of men burst through the roof entrance, all wielding their choice of gun. They immediately took cover and got as best of a vantage point as they could. The others stood beside me and I closed my eyes, letting my sixth sense reach out through the environment. As soon as the firing started my reflexes kicked in, grabbing hold of the pinpricks of metal as they left the different chambers.  
  
“Now that’s impressive.” Dom said with a smile as I opened my eyes. The bullets were frozen in the air, a wall building up of little metal cones. The praise was enough to keep me elated for days, but I wanted to show more. Turning the bullets around, I sent them flying back at our attackers. They all fell backwards to stain the roof with blood. I caught my breath from all the energy I was using before turning back to the stairs.  
  
They followed me as I blocked more bullets, letting them fall to the ground as I pulled us back down to the earth. Arthur checked his watch and pointed out that we didn’t have much longer, so I focused on building a safe house around us with whatever scraps I could pull until the world went dark.  
  
The point man was ready with a cotton-ball for me when I came to, the pressure keeping any blood from rushing to the surface. When everyone had regained consciousness Dom was smiling hopefully at me. Eames was the first one to speak, though.  
  
“So you can do all that in the waking world, yeah?” He asked, lacing his hands behind his neck and leaning backwards in the chair. I nodded, trying not to come across as arrogant. The problem was I knew the extent of my abilities and they were pretty wonderful.  
  
“It’s spectacular.” The point man said, studying me carefully. “Really, it was breath taking. And think of how much longer we would have to extract if we aren’t worried about sub-security all the time?”  
  
“Welcome to the team, Saria.” Dom said, extending his hand and shaking mine. I smiled, bowing my head and crossing my legs. He immediately turned to the target board and started to go over the details one by one, breaking down everything I needed to know about the extraction job to be carried out in six days’ time.


	2. Contract

Sometimes I wondered why on earth ice packs were ever considered a good solution to swelling in the first place. They never worked just right: if you used the bare ice pack or even a bag full of ice cubes it was too cold. If you put a cloth over the ice it wasn’t cold enough. This ridiculous struggle just to _try_ and quell the swelling that would in all likeliness continue anyways. With a heavy sigh I chucked the thing onto the coffee table, cringing at the noise it made. The bottle of extra strength pain killers jingled as I worked it open, two small circles of acetaminophen sliding their way down my throat. I washed it down with half a bottle of water, setting the crinkly thing back on the table as the phone by the door began to ring. Heaving myself off the couch I shuffled over to the device, taking a breath to stifle the pain in my ribs before picking up the phone.  
  
“Sorry to bother you Sar. How’re you feeling?” Stephen asked on the other end. I laughed at him, rolling my eyes.  
  
“I’m four pain killers into my day and still feel like a bunch of knives are stuck in me.” I said sarcastically. “I feel like complete shit but I’ll live. What’s up?”  
  
“Well, there’s—there’s some boys here to see you.” He said after a moment. I paused at his words, at his tone, and let the words come out very quietly.  
  
“Is—Is it Cobol Engineering again?” My heart was hammering in my chest. My body would not be able to handle another round with those guys so soon.  
  
“No, no, no.” He said quickly, allowing my muscles to relax. “Come on Saria, you know I’d sooner shoot ‘em down than let them in here. What kind of man you take me for, huh?”  
  
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” I said after a moment. “I’m not feeling the greatest, is there any way I can take a rain check?”  
  
“I’m real sorry about that, kiddo, but…” He paused as if moving farther away from the desk and he lowered his voice. “Considering what these guys paid last time I think it’ll be good for them to come up and give their pitch. It’ll only be a few minutes.”  
  
“If you think it’s best.” I agreed, looking out at the kitchen and living room and making a list of what to clean up. “Alright, send them up.”  
  
I hung up the phone and tidied up the place as best as I could. There wasn’t much of a mess but it would be hard enough convincing these people I would be fit to work in time given my condition without drugs out in the open. In the mirror I straightened out my appearance, layering on the concealer as best as I could but still failing horribly at hiding the bruises and cuts. The last mist of perfume sank into my skin just as the men knocked on the door. With a deep breath I opened it, frowning at the smiling faces waiting for me.  
  
“Wasn’t expecting you boys back so soon.” I teased, moving behind the door to let them in. Eames walked right into the place comfortably as if he’d been here before, taking in the sight of the place before wandering into the living room. Arthur hovered at the door, opening his mouth to say something before stopping. His eyebrows furrowed and he stared at my face, my body, the over-all beat up look I’d been donning for the past few days.  
  
“So are you going to pour us a drink or shall I look for myself then, darling?” From the corner of my eye I could see Eames thumbing through the books laying on the coffee table. I wanted to turn to him, to make some joke with him like I’d gotten used to in our brief time together; but Arthur was staring me down so intensely I didn’t think I could look away. He turned his head slightly but the rest of him stayed still.  
  
“Eames…” He called out, the tone beckoning the forger over to us. I sighed, closing the door and crossing my arms over my chest. The attention made me more uncomfortable than any cat call ever had. “What happened?”  
  
“It looks a lot worse than it is.” I promised, moving away from them and sitting on the couch. They sat in the chairs across from me as I tucked my legs under myself. The looks on their faces made me sigh. “Staring at the bruises won’t make them go away, sweethearts.”  
  
“Who did this to you?” Arthur asked seriously. In the week that I’d known him he spent most of his time with a serious or at least pensive look on his face, but this was a different kind of look. It was whole-hearted concern. He barely knew me, what reason did he have to care? I knew him for seven days and hadn’t talked to him in the two weeks since we finished the job.  
  
“It’s a risk that comes with the job.” I started to explain, reaching my hand back and beckoning the ice bucket to the table containing a half-finished bottle of wine. Being a warper meant that having most things contain some form of metal was how you liked your belongings. The three wine glasses that I brought out of the cupboard had the stems dipped in a nickel finish.  
  
“I finished another contract a few days ago with a team who extracted information from a member of Cobol Engineering. They found out about it and decided to get a little payback, try to see what went missing. You boys don’t need me to tell you that it’s much easier to find a stationary target—like me—than a group of people who leave town once the job is done. The bigger companies are, regrettably, growing wise to the whole warper thing so they’re getting better at restraining me, but hey. It’s what puts money in my bank account.”  
  
“And your boss just lets it happen?” The point man asked irritably. I shook my head at him, sighing.  
“Let’s not start up the whole damsel in distress thing again. Sweetheart there’s over eighty five people who work here, it’s hard enough for him to keep tabs on what country we’re all in let alone if we’ve made it back from the book store in a reasonable time. I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again: I can leave any time that I want. A few cuts and bruises is a small price to pay for what could be my reality.”  
  
At that I opened up the wine and filled the three glasses, not hesitating to grab hold of mine. They hesitated before claiming their own glasses and drinking as well. Part of me wished I’d been with Cobb and his team for a while longer: they were pleasant company and treated me with respect that didn’t happen too often in the field.  
  
“So are you boys here for a reason or just because you miss me?” I could feel the healing skin on my lip break open again as I smiled. Warmth came to the surface and I grabbed a Kleenex, pushing it against the surface to try and stop the blood.  
  
“Bit of both, actually.” Eames smiled, more than making up for the way that Arthur’s eyes lingered on my bruised neck. “We were hoping you’d humour us and come out for a few drinks.”  
  
“I really would like to but my bones aren’t exactly up for a night out right now.” I crumpled up the Kleenex and pushed myself off the couch, crossing over to where I had a pen and paper lying around. “If this is about another job you can talk to Stephen about it, he’ll make sure I get the details.”  
  
“We’d rather run things by you first, if that’s okay.” Arthur said as I scribbled down my number on the notepad. Ripping the sheet off I handed it to him and nodded.  
  
“You can leave your number and I’ll call you when I’m fit to be better company.” I watched as he marked down the digits on the lower half of the paper before tearing it off and handing it to me. They finished their wine before getting up and moving towards the door. Eames clapped his hand on my shoulder as I opened the door for them.  
  
“Feel better, yeah?” He fished a set of car keys out of pocket and gave me one last smile before heading towards the elevator. Arthur went after him but paused at the doorway.  
  
“You’re sure there’s nothing we can do?” He asked quietly, focusing on me and not the marks for once. I laughed at him, shaking my head and gently pushing him away.  
  
“Get out of here, point man.” I hung in the doorway, watching them go into the elevator and be swallowed up by the metal doors. When they were finally out of sight I retreated back inside, locking up and finishing off the bottle of wine by myself. I didn’t know how long it was going to take for my body to heal up but the bruises and blood didn’t affect my ability to judge character. It became clear very early in the job with Cobb and co. that they were people that could be trusted, one of the few teams I would be able to go to bar with and not feel the need to bring bodyguards and weapons.  
  


* * *

  
The outfit I’d settled on was simple: a plain pine green dress with short sleeves, gold pumps, and a chunky golden necklace. I was putting on the last bit of makeup when there was a knock on the door. I yelled from my room that it was unlocked and listened as the door creaked open. When I was content with my appearance I grabbed my purse and my phone, working to get the device inside as I walked into the living room. Arthur was waiting there and offered me a small smile, standing near the door with his hands in his pockets as if going any further would be rude.  
  
“I’m starting to think you don’t own anything other than well-tailored suits, point man.” I teased, elbowing him on my way to the kitchen. I blew out the candle that had been burning and went around closing all the curtains: it would be night by the time I got home and I didn’t want anyone to be able to see me through the windows.  
  
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He said, still rooted to the floor. He fiddled with one of his cufflinks while I did a final sweep of the place before going over to him.  
  
“I’m glad I’m feeling better too.” I smiled, opening the door and leading us into the hallway before locking it behind me. He went to push the button on the elevator but I stopped him, putting my hand up to the wall and hauling the thing up much faster myself. We got inside and I pulled the same trick, barely giving him enough time to clear his throat before we were walking through the lobby. “I’ll be back later, Stephen!”  
  
“Have a good time.” He covered the phone to talk, giving me a small wave before returning to the phone call. Arthur held the door open for me as we left and led me to his SUV in the parking lot. He even went as far as to open the door of the car and wait until I was inside to close it. What was it with these boys of Cobb’s that they were so respectful?  
  
“And they say chivalry is dead.” I teased as he got into the driver’s seat. He waited until I was all belted in to back out of the spot and drive out of the parking lot.  
  
“I meant to thank you for the gift you left.” He said after a moment, hands gripping the wheel and eyes constantly checking the road and the mirrors.  
  
“It’s company policy so I didn’t have a huge budget for it, but it’s good to know I wasn’t completely off.”  
  
“You could’ve just gotten us all pens.” He joked for what felt like the first time, looking over at me.  
  
“Now where’s the fun in that?” I asked while picking a stray thread off my dress. It was usually my least favourite part of the job: going out and getting thank you gifts for all the team members as a gesture of good business. For some reason even with the short amount of time I’d spent with these people the gift ideas came effortlessly.  
  
For Yusuf, I got a fancy bottle of the champagne he only ever drank out of the suite’s mini-fridge. He had expensive taste when it came to alcohol but never seemed to spend the money on himself when it came to drinks. I’d debated a while on what to get Cobb but eventually settled on something practical: a briefcase made of the finest Italian leather I could find and that was completely decked out with techy stuff. There were a few hidden compartments as well as a built in USB drive that held up to 64 GB of data and wirelessly backed up to the destination of his choice. At first I was going to get Eames something like a casino membership, but decided at the last minute that a funny thing would be more his style. I got a professional plaque commissioned for him, complete with calligraphy writing and that gold stamp in the corner, all asserting that he was in fact the world’s greatest forger ever to grace the dream-sharing world with his presence. It even had gold filigree laid into the resin-coated border so that it caught the light and shimmered.  
  
Arthur had probably been the easiest of the four: I gave him my favourite volume of Voltaire (unfortunately complete with my own scribbling within the margins that I apologized for in the note) and, as needed, a comprehensive French-English dictionary complete with conjugation rules. If the architect that Yusuf had hired had shown up I would have had to get something for him too, but the mystery man dropped out at the last minute and I ended up collaborating with Arthur on a quick design for the dream world.  
  
“Do you think the others liked what I picked?”  
  
“Definitely.” He said with confidence: not just some attempt to make me feel okay.  
  
“Good. Have you gotten anywhere with Voltaire?” I raised an eyebrow at him, knowing the answer before even asking. A smile crept onto his features and he looked away, flicking his eyes up to the rear view mirror before looking out at the road again.  
  
“I’ve made it through the first half…” He paused, and had a moment of contemplation. “Of the first chapter.”  
  
“It gets easier, I promise.”  
  
He pulled the car into the parking lot of a nearby bar and we got out, the sun burning my eyes as it continued its dip down under the horizon. Arthur put his hand on the small of my back as he led me through the crowded bar, steering me to a booth near the end where the three others were already waiting. They all got up as we came closer and we shook hands before I settled in between Arthur and Eames. Dom made small talk, bringing up the gifts which fuelled the conversation and laughs for a while. But eventually he got to the point of the entire night: the point that had been building up since they’d tried to bring me out a month ago.  
  
“I think it’s safe to say that we were all extremely impressed with your work, and we’d very much like to have you on our team again.” He explained, pulling out a small contract from the pocket inside his blazer. As he unfolded it Arthur pulled a pen from his pocket and slid it beside me. Dom held out the folded paper but took it back at the last second, looking up at me. “Only this time, we were thinking more of a long-term basis.”  
  
I took the contract and opened it up, scanning the words to figure out what he was talking about. There was the usual jargon that these things always consisted of, and after having read so many of them I learned where to look for the key details. When I found it my eyes grew wide and I looked back up at him.  
  
“You want me for six whole months? I’ve never had a contract that lasted longer than two.”  
  
“If you aren’t comfortable staying on for that long we can try to work something else out.” Arthur said, putting his arm on the booth seat behind me so he could face me easier. I laughed at him, shaking my head.  
  
“I’m more worried about you boys getting sick of me than the other way around.” I promised, flattening the paper and signing above my name. “Stephen’s still going to have to check this out before it’s finalized but I’m happy to be of service.”  
  
“Well we’re all very glad to hear that.” Dom said with a genuine smile that spread to me. The contract would include a bi-weekly paycheck and full boarding. Dom had found a big house to rent that we’d all call home for the duration of the contract. “Now there’s one more thing that’s not in the contract that I was hoping to discuss.”  
  
“I’m not allowed to do any off-contract deals, Mister Cobb.” I said anxiously, twirling the pen in my fingers.  
  
“It’s nothing like that at all.” Eames promised, shaking his head. I looked back at Dom.  
  
“I like to work with people I’m sure of, and people who work well with each other. I didn’t include this in the contract because if you decline it isn’t a deal breaker. Considering the fiasco with the last architect who was supposed to work with us and the talent you showed in his place, we want you to take on the role of the architect as well—if you’re up for it.”  
  
I was just starting to process the request when I heard my name being called in the distance. Looking around, the face peeked through the crowd and my heart jumped. The girl wormed through the crowd over to my side as I pushed on Arthur’s arm until he understood I was trying to get out of the booth.  
  
“I thought you were still in Moscow!” I cried, embracing one of the few warpers I had any relationship with at all. Her thick curls brushed against my face, their highlights set off by her caramel skin. She ginned, holding my face in her hands and kissing my forehead.  
  
“We got the job done early.” She said before hugging me again. I savoured the moment entirely, knowing that we would soon be separated again. “Who are these handsome boys?”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” I began, turning back to the team and naming them one by one. “They’re my new roommates for the next six months. Boys, this is Staci.”  
  
They exchanged greeting and I turned back to face her. It was strange; Staci was just shy of being a decade older than me but somehow she became more of a parent to me than my own was. She explained that Martin was here with her and a few of the others. Martin was just shy of fifty and the oldest warper employed. He was sort of the father figure of us all, taking care of anyone who needed it. Keeping Staci’s hand in mine I turned back to the others.  
  
“Yes, by the way. To the architect deal, I’d absolutely love it.” I explained quickly before looking back at where the warpers were sitting. “You can tell me if this is out of line, but I figure that I’m yours for half a year and I won’t see these guys for just as long—do you think we could work out the finer details later?”  
  
“Absolutely.” Dom nodded, smiling again. It was strange, how making these boys happy somehow made me happy too. “We’ll call you in the next week to organize a pick up and the finalization of everything.”  
  
“We’re going to have a few drinks, you boys are more than welcome to join us.” Staci said from my side, swinging our interlocked hands between us.  
  
“I’ll have to take a rain check on that, I’ve got a list of things to do.” Dom said as they all got to their feet. He held out his hand to me and I happily shook it. “I’ll be seeing you.”  
  
“What about you guys?” I asked of the others. Somehow it didn’t surprise me that Eames was the first to agree, putting a few bills on the table to cover whatever they’d ordered before I got there. Yusuf was quick to make sure it wouldn’t be a hassle for him to join us but Staci did a perfect job of assuring him otherwise.  
  
“C’mon Arthur, let’s go.” Eames said as Dom left. The point man looked less sure of it all, his expression quickly turning to a wishy-washy one. He must have done this often because Eames heaved out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be a stick in the mud, darling. Have some fun for once.”  
  
“I promise we’ll be good company.” I offered, raising my eyebrows. He looked up at me and caved, nodding. With a smile I took him by the hand and lead us over to the group of warpers.  
  
“Look at you, growing up like it’s your job.” Martin teased as I embraced him. He patted my back as Staci took care of the introductions. “Soon enough you’re going to start sprouting greys!”  
  
“That’s rich coming from you, old man.” I teased back, shoving him lightly before we all took our seats. Martin ordered a round of drinks for us all, passing them out before we settled into our conversations.  
  
“You look good, baby girl.” Staci mused from across the table. “You know what I’ll do to these boys if they don’t treat you right.”  
  
“They’re lovely people, Stac.” I promised, knowing full well that her threat was meant to be heard by the three of them. Yusuf was too distracted by Miranda (though I couldn’t tell if it was because of the trick she was doing with some spare change or because she was ridiculously attractive) to pay any attention, but Eames and Arthur definitely heard. “I worked with them a month back, no alarms went off. Didn’t have to backfire any guns.”  
  
“Oh is that what’s going to happen if we mess up?” Eames teased with a grin.  
  
“Sweetheart bullets are the least of your worries if you’ve got a warper on your tail.” Staci warned with a sly smile, downing her drink and ordering another. Eames engaged her in a conversation revolving around all the things she’d ever done to people who’d screwed her over, each detail intriguing him more than the last.  
  
“So point man, do you have a favourite quote yet?” I asked, turning to him. He was in the middle of taking a drink but paused to think. “Even though you’ve made little progress.”  
  
“I think the part that stood out the most so far was ‘It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere.’” He said from memory. I nodded, smiling at the fact that he’d managed to remember it fully and in the correct translation. He continued to search his memory, mumbling about another one, but paused to rifle through the bag he had. From the bottom he pulled the actual book and began to thumb through the first few pages. “There was a line you underlined and said something about it being your personal philosophy so I looked it up.”  
  
“I am sorry about the second-hand nature of the book.” I grimaced, tapping my fingers on the side of my glass. “It’s not a particularly easy volume to find, though.”  
  
“It makes it more interesting.” He promised before finally finding the passage. I leaned over his shoulder to read it, knowing at once by the triple underline and stars around it what the line was. He took a moment before delivering the line in an impressive French accent. “ _Laissez-nous lire et nous faire danser - deux amusements qui ne fera jamais de mal au monde._ ”  
  
“’Let us read and let us dance—two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.’” I recited, nodding. “Well we’ve accomplished the first, let’s do the second. Come on, they’re playing music for a reason!”  
  
I got to my feet, pulling Staci away from her gory conversation and explaining that we were going to make good use of the dance floor. Eames and Yusuf got up along with some of the other warpers. I turned back to Arthur and his book, looking at him expectantly.  
  
“I’m really not much of a dancer.” He laughed, shying away from the idea completely. I raised my eyebrows at him.  
  
“Neither am I, point man. Come on, ‘ _don’t be a stick in the mud, darling._ ’” I mimicked in Eames’ accent, laughing with him before grabbing him by the hands and heaving him up. He quickly downed the rest of his drink before the group of us took over the small space in front of the empty stage. On weekends there was a live band, but tonight we settled for the stereo.  
  
The rest of the night (and well into the morning) was spent bouncing between groups. If I wasn’t attempting to dance with someone I was curled up in the booth catching up with Staci, getting my daily dose of dad from Martin, playing card games with Eames and some deck we found around the bar (the games consisted of a lot of cheating on both our parts which meant a lot of yelling back and forth), or trying to keep Arthur from becoming a wall flower. He loosened up a little as the drinks kept coming but it took a whole lot of work to get him to loosen his tie a little. Some part of me clicked onto that as a challenge of sorts that I would probably work at over the next six months.  
  
Part of me wondered if the reason I was determined to stay at the bar up until it closed was because I knew as soon as I left things would get real. I would start missing Staci all over again, I would have to integrate myself into Dom’s team all over again, and I would be officially on watchdog duty for six months straight. I would be watching all of our backs at all times and I would be responsible if anything happened to any of them. The thoughts exhausted me so I covered them up with more alcohol and dancing, pretending the next phase would never really start and that we could all just stay in this drinking-induced coma of laughing and hugging forever.


	3. Useful

“So you just left it all behind? The whole dream hospital in Mombassa, you just dropped it?” I asked Yusuf, facing him as much as the seat belt would let me in the middle seat of Cobb’s rented van. Arthur was sitting up front beside Dom, the two of them discussing some previous job and dropping names I didn’t know. Eames was sprawled out in the back seat, staring at his phone and occasionally dancing his fingers across the keys.  
  
“No, no, no, my brother is looking after it while I’m gone.” He promised, popping a slice of tangerine in his mouth before offering one to me. I took it, peeling off the straggly white bits and tossing them onto the ground. “After your contract is over I’m most likely going home. By then my cousin should have a set up on the East Coast, so Cobb can just bother him whenever he needs one of the best chemists.”  
  
“If your paycheck is bothering you I can always change that, Yusuf.” Cobb said, raising an eyebrow at him from the rear view mirror. I laughed at their banter, unable to help myself from noticing the similarities between Dom and Martin. Maybe it was because he had two little ones of his own, but he very much exuded father figure when the timing was right.  
  
Yusuf handed me another slice of tangerine and I broke it in half, looking out the window. We were on a quieter road, an old service road that for the most part ran parallel to the interstate. The traffic was sparse which was nice; it was very easy to get sick of big cities and traffic jams.  
  
“What about you? Do you ever see yourself doing something other than this?” He asked before crumpling up the skin of the fruit in a Kleenex and stuffing it into the cup holder between us.  
  
“Warping is the only thing I’m good at, sweetheart. I’ll be doing this till I…” I frowned, something catching my attention. I held my hand up to Dom, moving it past Arthur and Yusuf and Eames.  
  
“Saria, what is it?” Arthur asked, turning his head as best as he could. I shook my head, closing my eyes and sifting through the metal in the area. I worked to separate the buildings from the telephone wires from the cars from the cellphones.  
  
“Something’s out of place…” I said quietly, moving through the cars surrounding us and trying to divide the plethora of car parts from what could be lurking. I found it in the same moment that they found us; a stutter of bullets blasting through the back window. I immediately threw up a barrier, shaking the glass from my hair as Dom floored the gas pedal. “ _Shit_. Is anyone hurt?”  
  
“I think I might be hit.” Cobb said, holding a hand to his side. I pressed my palm over his and let him know that it was a through and through. Turning my attention back to the shattered window, I commanded Eames and Yusuf to stay down. The shooters were swerving around the cars that had stopped, worming their way up to us. I wanted to keep them in the dark as to what I was capable of until I had a steady grip on an endgame. The bullets they fired next hit the van enough to make dents but I stopped the damage at that.  
  
“You’re bleeding.” Arthur said, motioning for Yusuf to get into the back while he knelt beside me. I looked down at my arm, watching the red stain blooming just below my shoulder. I cursed under my breath, making sure I had a steady hold on any oncoming fire before summoning the bullet out of my arm. He worked the tie loose from his neck and wasted no time in tying it around the wound to try and stop the bleeding.  
  
“Eames, can you get a good shot?” I asked, working quickly to separate the metal of the car from the rest of the vehicles. The forger sat up and took aim, getting off a few rounds but missing any significant marks due to the way they swerved around.  
  
“It’s no good.” He hissed, taking cover again as they started to return fire. I rotated my shoulder once and looked up at the metal roof of the van. After a moment of contemplation I knelt on the seat, drawing a rectangle on the ceiling with my fingers big enough for two bodies to fit through. When the firing stopped I pressed on the imaginary door and made it a reality, pushing it upwards on a hinge of metal and looking over at Arthur.  
  
“C’mon point man, I need a cover in case things get rough.” I turned to Dom, putting my hand on his shoulder and asking him to drive as straight as possible before I wormed my way through the home-made sunroof. Arthur slipped up beside me, taking aim at the car. They started to fire as soon as they saw us, but the bullets didn’t make it past the bumper. Arthur got off a few shots of his own, hitting at least one of the men and shattering their windshield. I was just starting to properly wrap my mind around the car when Dom swerved around something. Arthur wrapped an arm around me instantly, holding me against him as Dom regained control.  
  
“I got you.” He said over the din of everything, keeping his eyes trained on the targets. He kept me steady as I forced myself to focus again, wrapping the extensions of myself around the metal body of the car even as they swerved. I gave up entirely on any façade of luck and started to stop the bullets in mid-air, letting them clatter onto the pavement beneath. I took a deep breath in and exhaled it, curling my fingers and grabbing hold of the car.  
  
I lifted it off of the road, higher and higher until it was up nearly twenty feet. Closing my hands into fists I crushed the vehicle like a soda can. Then, in one swift movement, I sent it hurdling into the field of dead corn stalks that flanked the road. It rolled over a few times, this crumpled mess of metal, before finally settling in its grave. It wouldn’t have been enough to kill them: I wanted them to live and tell the horror story to whoever hired them so they would know not to screw with us.  
  
After a few deep breaths I slinked back into the car, pulling back the roof and sealing everything up. It was only when I was finished that I started to clue into the pain in my arm, pulling the blue striped tie tighter. I asked Dom how he was doing and he promised he was fine, but from the way he was wincing I could tell otherwise. The good thing was the pressure was keeping him from losing a lethal amount of blood, but we still needed to get to cover fast.  
  
“We aren’t exactly going to be able to walk through the airport unnoticed with two of us bleeding, though.” Dom considered aloud, looking in the rear view mirror at my arm as we finally made it back to civilization. It was a short drive from here to the airport, not long to come up with a plan. Arthur shrugged out of his jacket and held it out for me to take while I cast nervous glances behind us.  
  
“It’ll get all bloody.” I pushed it back to him but he just sighed and put it around my shoulders.  
  
“It’ll hide the fact that you just got shot.” He asserted. I nodded, sliding my arms through the sleeves and zipping it up half-way. I pressed my palm to the side of the van, doing as much repair as I could.  
  
“I can fix the dents so it doesn’t look like we just got ambushed with machine guns, but I can’t do anything about the glass. Maybe it’ll pass as a break in.” I explained as the last of the holes were mended. “When we get to the airport, Dom, I’ll walk with you. If you put your arm around me it’ll reduce the noticeability of your limp. I’ll get us into an employee zone and stitch you up as soon as I can. Eames, Yusuf, you okay back there?”  
  
“We’re fine.” Eames assured, looking back at the road with just as much apprehension as the rest of us. “I reckon the cops will be swarming this place soon and they’ll be looking for us. We should try and disappear as fast as we can.”  
  
“We’re almost there.” Dom promised, weaving us in and out of the other cars as best as he could. The planes could be seen taking their ascents and hurdling down the landing strips. There were signs all around for where to go depending on whether you wanted arrivals or departures and which gate. We were lucky enough to find a parking spot not too far away from the entrance, but the van got a plethora of strange looks from passers-by. Eames, Arthur, and Yusuf took care of all the luggage as I helped Dom out of the car. I pulled his arm around my shoulder and tried to make us look as casual as possible. His teeth were grinding with every step but there was nothing I could do to help.  
  
Inside the airport the others were vigilant in keeping an eye out for any potential threats. Arthur directed us to our appropriate gate, leading us all in the direction of our gate. The flight wasn’t scheduled for another hour, but since it was a chartered jet we could delay it for a few hours if need be. One of the perks of having a nice big disposable income.  
  
“Yusuf, could you check our bags in for us and then meet us at our gate?” Dom said in as calm a voice as he could manage. The chemist nodded, loading our luggage onto a cart and nodding to us before disappearing into the crowds.  
  
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for him to be going off on his own?” I asked, scouting for the nearest possible hideout. Dom assured me that Yusuf was as good with chemistry as I was with metal, and made a habit of carrying around means to incapacitate any enemy. He barely finished the sentence when I saw a door to our right. Eames and Arthur scouted the area while Dom and I leaned against a nearby wall. When they gave me the all-clear I forced the lock open and nodded. Eames twisted the knob slowly and slipped into the room first, pulling open the door after a few seconds of clearing the place. Dom and I went next with Arthur bringing up the rear.  
  
It was a large maintenance closet, full of shelves with cleaning equipment and tools. Arthur quickly overturned a garbage bin, helping Dom off of me and getting him off his feet. Touching the lock, I pulled the metal outwards and looped it through the drywall a few times just for good measure. I started to search the shelves until I found one of the replacement first aid kits, breaking it open and kneeling before Dom as he unbuttoned his shirt.  
  
“This is going to hurt.” I warned, soaking a cotton ball in antiseptic and wiping the surface clean of all the blood before finding the needle and threat. When everything was ready to go I took a deep breath to steady myself, outlining where I needed to stitch before making the first stab. His hands curled into fists and he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. I tried to make it as painless as possible but it wasn’t the easiest of things to be delicate about. “I’m sorry. I should have picked up on them before it was too late.”  
  
“Well you got them before I needed any stitches,” Eames began with a grin. “So I think you did alright.”  
  
“I’m serious.” I gave him a look before knotting the thread and moving onto the exit wound. “It can’t feel like a good investment when the product starts malfunctioning and you opted out of insurance.”  
  
“You aren't some computer, Saria.” Dom assured me. “You’re human, we make mistakes.”  
  
“Imagine the outcome if you _hadn’t_ been there.” Arthur pointed out, raising an eyebrow at me. I kept my mouth shut, putting bandages over the stitches before wrapping a thick layer of gauze around Dom’s middle. He thanked me and started to put his shirt back on while I got to my feet. Pulling my hair back and out of the way, I started to work at the tie on my arm. I hung the thing around my neck and began to unbutton my own shirt, keeping as much of me covered as I could. Surveying the damage, I worked quickly to sterilize the area and the needle so I could begin my own stitch up. Arthur offered to help but I promised I’d manage just fine. When I was ready the needle began its hands free work, weaving in and out of my skin as I winced.  
  
“You know, for all our supernatural abilities warpers sure do have a low tolerance for physical pain.” I joked, keeping an eye on the needle as I guided it. “Do we have any idea who that might have been firing?”  
  
“If you want a list of possibles, you just need to look at any of our employment records.” Cobb said as he put himself back together. “The only thing that matters is that they’re gone and won’t be bothering us again.”  
  
“Not until those bones heal up.” I knotted the last stitch and cut the thread, slapping a bandage over top and getting dressed again. Pulling on the borrowed jacket, I stashed the bloodied tie in the pocket and put the first aid kit back where it came from.  
  
“Heal up—You didn’t kill ‘em?” Eames frowned.  
  
“Despite what you favour, murder isn’t everyone’s first instinct Mister Eames.” Arthur said in my defense as I worked the lock back into its original state.  
  
“Well it sure is quicker.” He countered, earning a look from me before I cracked the door open a bit. Checking the area to make sure the coast was clear, I nodded to the others and slipped outside. We were held up at customs for a while, during which time I managed to nearly rip my stitches, but we eventually made it through and reunited with a nervous looking Yusuf at our gate.  
  
“I was getting worried.” He said as we all got out our boarding passes. “Listen, I was thinking and—well, there’s the chance that whoever the men were, they were only tailing us. But there’s a chance that they may have been…well, stalking us.”  
  
“What are you getting at?” Dom asked, the group of us hovering just in front of the boarding hallway. Yusuf looked around before lowering his voice and drawing a little closer.  
  
“If they know where we were going, what if they knew which jet we’re getting on?” He said, raising his eyebrows anxiously. “What if they’ve planted a—a b-o-m-b?”  
  
“Oh, I can check for that easily.” I dismissed. “Just get me a blueprint of the jet and I’ll let you know if there are any inconsistencies.”  
  
We all sat down to try and minimize the risk of drawing attention. I sat beside Dom as he pulled out his tablet, waiting patiently as he found the appropriate document. The others busied themselves with newspapers or their phones while Dom turned the tablet to me. My eyes scanned the picture and tried to take everything into account before I sat back in the chair and relaxed. At first trying to visualize the metal skeletons of the airport and airplanes was overwhelming: it was a jungle of metal that felt impossible to sort through. But eventually I was able to block out the unnecessary parts bit by bit until there was nothing left but our jet. I kept having to refer back to the blueprint because so many things were in the shape of possible bombs; but in about five minutes I confirmed that we were safe.  
  
The jet was much bigger than was needed for the five of us, but that was one of the perks of the job. Luxury. No babies crying beside you, no weird people falling asleep on your shoulder, no kid kicking your seat, no cheap food or boring movies. I took a seat on one of the couches, stretching my legs across it and heaving my bag onto my lap.  
  
Everyone settled into their chairs of choice and we buckled up at the pilot’s word. It was a gentle ascent compared to most flights I was on, but I took comfort in the fact that if I really needed to I could keep this thing in the air (or land it) with enough focus and control. Once steadily in the air we had a two hour flight ahead of us: which Yusuf made much less daunting at the proposition of a chess match. He pulled a set from his bag and began to set it up as I eagerly volunteered.  
  
“And since I’m such a gentleman, you can have the first move.” He said with a smile, setting up the last of the pieces as I slid into the seat opposite him. I raised an eyebrow at him, relaxing back into the chair.  
  
“Oh sweetheart, you might regret that.”  
  
“What, letting you go first?” There was amusement in his voice, and I understood we were in a sort of stalemate: both of us believed we were the better.  
  
“Thinking I need the first move to destroy you.” I challenged, smirking at him. Selecting my piece of choice I slid it forward on the board and waited. We exchanged a few quick but calculated turns before the silence of the jet was broken once more.  
  
“So how’d you get into the business?” He asked, staring at the board while he debated his next move.  
  
“Well that all depends.” As he made a decision I took a moment to outline all the possible paths that could be taken depending on my next choice. “Do you want the novel or the sparknotes?”  
  
“A novel, now that sounds interesting.” Eames piped up from his corner seat near the front of the jet. He straightened up in the chair and leaned forward a little.  
  
“You asked for it.” I made my move and took a bit of a breather. Usually I kept this stuff to myself, but these people had trusted me with their lives, it was a small thing in return to tell them a story. Tucking a strand of hair behind me ear I tried to figure out where to start.  
  
“Your move.” Yusuf said from beside me, calling my attention. I stared at the board while I started to explain how I ended up here.  
  
“I guess I should really start at the beginning, back before I could warp. My mother left my dad and I when I was too young to remember, so I don’t know if he was always a drunk or only after she broke his heart. You know the typical broken home sob story; dad is abusive, kid has rough life, blah blah blah. Well I moved out when I started college, fell in love with the first boy who showed me the slightest bit of kindness, etcetera. You know that whole thing where you seek out people like you parent? Well sometimes the boy got drunk. And sometimes the boy got rough. And one night, when I was twenty-two, he started beating me up really bad. I don’t remember much, just that I thought I was going to die and that I got really scared. I reached out and felt something so I used it as a weapon. When I opened my eyes he was lying on the floor with a kitchen knife lodged in his neck; we were nowhere near the kitchen. And that’s when I first started to play with metal.”  
  
“Well there are worse ways to get a super power.” Eames said lightly after a minute of silence. I raised an eyebrow at him, smiling despite myself. I took in all of their expressions—wholly expecting disgust or weariness—but found more pity than anything. Part of me wondered if the former would have been better. And then there was Arthur, sitting there again with the same look on his face that he’d had when he’d seen me beat up. It was too much concern for him to have for someone like me. “How’d you manage to stay out of jail, then?”  
  
“I was supposed to go away for a while,” I began absently, returning my attention to the game for the most part. “The whole thing made news and my dad wanted nothing to do with me and I said a lot of stupid things in the initial statements—stuff about warping and all that—so I guess that’s how Staci found out about me. She showed up at the hearing and asked to speak to the judge and the next thing I know she was taking me out of the courtroom. I guess there’s some sort of deal between the system and the warpers, I don’t know. I just bend things. And Check Mate.”  
  
“How did you—I can’t believe it.” Yusuf was staring at the chess board, going over all the moves and trying to see where he’d messed up (or, in all likelihood, if I’d somehow cheated). “No. It was luck, let’s play again just to be sure.”  
  
“So you can lose again, Yusuf?” I teased, taken back slightly by how well they’d all taken the not-so-sweet backstory of mine.  
  
“I’ll play a match.” Arthur said, setting his book down and getting to his feet. I raised an eyebrow at him, amused at this notion. Yusuf begrudgingly got up from his seat but was determined to sit close enough to watch our game like a hawk. The point man settled in across from me and I made the first move. Dom had called Eames over at one point and the two of them were discussing things in their own corner of the jet while the match of (somehow) great significance continued on.  
  
In most things I found it was always a good idea to keep a balance of confidence in your abilities but at the same time a fraction of self-doubt: just to remember that you are not invincible and that things can go wrong. Unfortunately, this was something I forgot on occasion, and so as the game went on I sat there with an air of smugness because every move he made seemed to correlate to a good potential move on my part. This continued on: the gentle clicking of carved wooden chess pieces and the hushed murmuring of the extractor and the forger in the background. He made one move and I grinned, quickly getting into place and calling him on my Check. With a blank face and an extremely calm demeanour, he moved his piece and sat back in the chair.  
  
“Check mate.” There was the faintest flicker of a smile on his face as I stared at him. Yusuf was ecstatic, announcing that it had just been a fluke. Arthur wiped the smile of his face and got up, slapping the chemist on the shoulder. “No, she beat you because she’s a fantastic chess player.”  
  
“Clearly not the best on the jet.” I teased, raising my eyebrows at him. He laughed before settling back into his book. I could see the tattered edges and recognized it as the Voltaire book I’d given him. I was tempted to go over and see how he was faring with it but I settled for just being glad that he was getting good use out of it.  
  
When the jet finally landed there were cars waiting to pick us up. The drive from the airport was longer than I thought it would be, the route taking us further and further from the busy core of the city. I had expected something in the suburbs, but the house might’ve been out of city limits entirely. It was worth it, though, in every way. The property was at least ten acres, shrouded by forest all around. The architecture was stunning, and only added to the grandiose sense of the place. It looked more like a manor than a house, with a great big winding driveway tucked safely behind a gate.  
  
Inside was just as luxurious as the outside hinted. The finishings were all high-end, the ceilings at least ten feet, fireplaces, a kitchen to die for, but most importantly was the yard as seen through the wall of windows. There was a deck, of course, but also a pond in the distance and fields of wildflowers and a gazebo. It was quiet in the way that you want it to be: not silent, but peaceful.  
  
“There are two rooms on the top floor, two in the lower level, and one on the main floor.” Cobb said as we stood in the foyer. He looked over and nodded to me. “Ladies first.”  
  
“Do the top floor rooms have a balcony?” I asked, feeling like a kid on Christmas. He nodded and I grinned. “That’s my choice.”  
  
I wandered towards the spiral staircase as the others made their choices: Yusuf and Eames took the lower level rooms, Dom picked the room on the main level, which left the last room for Arthur. I wasted no time in unpacking my things and taking a proper tour of the place, knowing it would take no effort on my part to get used to living here. My only worry was that I wouldn’t want to leave when the six months was up.  
  
And then it really hit me, that I was going to be here with these people for half of a year. Six whole months with almost strangers: the longest contract I’d ever had. Stephen almost tried to persuade me into not accepting because apparently these long-term things didn’t always work out for the best. We knew first-hand how dangerous it could be staying in one place, and that was with the security we had. I was the only security here. We were relying on each other.  
  
By the time I made it back downstairs Dom was running over things we had to do, most importantly getting the fridge stocked. I offered to go with him to wherever the nearest store was, trying not to laugh at how strange it would be to see these people in any sort of domestic setting. We’d be under this roof for our good days and bad days with a limited number of vehicles if one of us needed to get away from the rest.  
  
Dom still needed a bit of time before he was ready to go so I wandered out into the backyard (if you could even call it a yard, it was more like a series of football fields) and made my way to the big pond. I sat near the edge, pulling my knees against my chest and listening to the soundtrack of this place: crickets and birds and wind through the leaves in place of sirens and highways and booming music. This was how things were supposed to be. I watched the small fish circling around and around for a while before I lay down on my back. Twisting the blades of grass in my fingers, I convinced myself that this would be all worthwhile.


	4. Blackout

The television was blaring with the commentator’s narration of the soccer game. Eames was sitting on the couch with a drink in hand, eyes glued to the screen. It was amusing to watch people when they were very much into a show or movie or book; you could see little movements they made as if some part of their minds thought they were a part of it. Twitches of his foot or swaying of his body, some ghost of himself acting out moves he would have carried out if he were in the game.  
  
Yusuf spent a lot of time in the den in the basement where he’d set up a plethora of chemistry equipment. Sometimes I would just sit down there for hours and watch him work, and if I was lucky he would let me help. It was an incredible transformation that he underwent every time he stepped in front of the beakers and liquids. He went from smiling, joking, sarcastic Yusuf to a quiet, calculating, and focused chemist. Sometimes he refined old formulas, sometimes he made new ones, and sometimes he packaged things up and mailed them out to places all over the world.  
  
Dom spent a lot of time cooped up in his room by himself or out in the gazebo by the edge of the property. It had become known through some unspoken exchange that he was to be given his space. Sometimes he could be heard on the phone with some kids, and Arthur told me the story of what had happened to Dominic Cobb’s family: the reason why he turned to dream sharing in the first place. It was only a week into our stay that he came to us all with our first mark: Richard Hayward II, the wealthy son of one of the most successful stock brokers in the country. His father had died years ago, though, so the legacy was left to him. Dom explained to us that our employers wanted the usual: to obliterate the competition by any means possible. It was our job to find out anything we could—and there were plenty of leads to follow up on. There was an alleged human trafficking gig he ran underground along with drug cartels and probably extramarital affairs.  
  
We had time, though, so while Dom was out doing whatever it was he did, I was sprawled out on an arm chair laughing at Eames’ outbursts and working my way through a crossword puzzle. Sometime after the third goal against the forger’s team, Arthur came downstairs dressed in a tuxedo.  
  
“Where’s the party, point man?” I teased, scribbling a word down in the boxes while he slicked back his hair. The corners of his mouth twisted into a muted smile as he rifled through a stack of papers on the end table.  
  
“I’m heading over to Hayward’s casino to check out the records, see if there’s any laundering.” He found whatever he was looking for, folding up the sheets of paper and sliding them into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. The sight of it reminded me that I still had his leather jacket and ruined tie in my room somewhere, the former needing cleaning and the latter needing replacement. He hadn’t said anything about it yet so I figured he was doing just fine without it for the time being.  
  
“You shouldn’t go alone.” I said, swinging my legs off of the arm of the chair and getting to my feet. I straightened up my clothes and stretched. “I’m assuming there’s a fancy dress code?”  
  
“I should be fine without back up.” He promised as I got to the base of the stairs. I turned and gave him a look.  
  
“What am I being paid for then?” I watched as he slowly caved before nodding. “I’ll be ready in ten.”  
  
I had brought a couple of fancier dresses in case something like this ever came up. While I started putting on some make up I brought the dress off the hanger, dragging it through the air by the zipper and laying it out on the bed. It was a long sleeveless silver chiffon dress with enough cleavage to draw attention in the event that I needed to be a distraction. The back was completely open and the waistband had jewels that caught the light. Slipping it on, I willed the zipper up while fixing my hair. I grabbed my phone and wallet, shoving them into a silver clutch before quickly putting on some heels.  
When I made it back downstairs I was holding a handful of metal watches that I used on most of my jobs. I was working on separating them while I walked over to where Eames and Arthur were sitting. I took in the looks on their faces and rolled my eyes.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I clean up well, I know.” I tossed three of the watches to Eames before sitting down beside Arthur. “Do me a favour, give two of those to Yusuf and Dom, would you?”  
  
“More gifts?” Eames asked, sitting up and studying them while I took Arthur’s hand and fastened the watch onto his wrist.  
  
“These have Osmium in them; it’s one of the densest metals on earth. It’s sort of….” I paused, trying to think of how to explain it simply. “Well, it stands out a lot more than iron or steel or aluminium so it works as a neon sign if I need to find you boys. Ready to go?”  
  
Arthur nodded, absently admiring the watch as we stood up. He gave Eames a general timeline for the job in case we ran into trouble, and then we were out the door. As if the nice house wasn’t enough Dom still managed to get us nice cars to use, and I relished in the comfort of the luxury vehicle.  
  
“You really do look lovely.” He said after I’d settled on a radio station. I smiled despite myself at the silly little comment.  
  
“Nine times out of ten this job requires some participation in the role of a physical distraction.” I explained, sitting back in the chair. “C’est moi; une fille d’affiche pour les femme fatales.”  
  
It was at least an hour’s drive into town and another forty minutes to find the actual casino. We made small talk along the way, and found out through the radio that we had a mutual love for Chopin. For a Tuesday afternoon the place was extremely busy, cars lining up around the block just to get up to the valet. There were numerous limousines in the line-up and I watched the rich people climb out one by one. There was a face, though, that caught my attention.  
  
“Hayward’s not got any siblings, right?” I asked, keeping my eyes glued to the man.  
  
“No, he’s an only child.”  
  
“Well unless he’s figured out the secret to human clothing that would be him getting out a limo up there.” I turned to the point man, watching him find Hayward in the crowd and immediately grow tense. A foil in the plan. “How long do you think it’ll take you to get what you need?”  
  
“It all depends on the security. I’ve timed it so that I’ll be in as close to shift change as possible, but there’s no guarantee. Anywhere from thirty minutes to a couple of hours.” He gripped the wheel as we edged closer to the doors. “What I do know from the preliminary research is that Hayward likes to do rounds of this place when he visits which is not going to make this easy.”  
  
“Alright, here’s what I’m going to do.” I took the seat belt off and grabbed my clutch, turning my phone onto silent and bracing myself on the handle. “I’m going to go in, hope that he’s touring the floor for now. Maybe I’ll rig a few rounds at the roulette table to get his attention, then flirt with him to keep him there as long as possible. Will you have access to cameras where you are?”  
  
“Yes, but you don’t need to—”  
  
“I don’t know how long I’ll be able to distract him so try to work as quickly as you can.” I put my hand on his shoulder and gave a hasty smile. “Don’t mess up, point man.”  
  
I got out of the car and walked the short distance to the doors, smiling at the guards as they opened the door for me. Inside the place was brilliant; marble floors, crystal chandeliers, fountains, a pianist, the works. I walked slowly, pretending to be taking in the sight of the place but scanning the crowds for Hayward. He wasn’t a hard man to find, walking around with four massive bodyguards. He was at least sixty, but you could tell from his features that he’d been a real looker back in his day. The chiseled bone structure still remained but his hair was bright silver and face was beginning to set with wrinkles. He still dressed as any rich man would, though. Through the people he saw me and I smiled at him, batting my eyelashes like some school girl before wandering away. Was it enough to entice him to follow?  
  
Past all the slot machines and the bar was the main floor with all of the card games and betting games. I searched for anything with metal that I could potentially work to my advantage, but as I did so I sensed the osmium watch and took comfort in the notion that the point man was finally inside. One of the roulette tables had an open seat so I took it, catching sight of Arthur in the crowd as he moved towards his destination.  
  
I put my bet on a number and watched as the wheel spun, trying to make it move as naturally as possible before making it so the ball had only one slot to go into: my number. This continued for a few tries and the chips began to pile up in my corner before I let chance reclaim the order of things.  
“Seems like the party is over here, tonight.” A smooth voice said behind me. I smiled again at Hayward, watching as he put a hand up to the bodyguards to tell them he was fine without them for now before turning to me. “Is this seat taken?”  
  
“It is now.” I smirked, moving the edge of my dress so he wouldn’t step on it. The game resumed and I let myself win to keep him interested, although from the way he was looking at me I doubted it was necessary. “I’m going to judge from the body guards that you’re the big boss here, then?”  
  
“More like the boss’ boss.” He said with a sly smile, putting his arm on the back of my chair and leaning in a little. “I own the place. Richard Hayward.”  
  
“Kate Rushman.” I shook his extended hand and smiled like he would want me to as he kissed the back of my hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”  
  
“Believe me, the pleasure’s all mine.” He assured, keeping his arm on my chair as we turned out attention back to the game. I let myself win a few more times, each rake in of chips somehow correlating into an invitation for him to move closer. At one point he ordered drinks for us, handing me the glass of champagne that was probably worth more than all of my belongings put together. He tucked my hair behind my ear as he got a basic biography on Kate Rushman. Why she was in town, where she was from, whether or not she was single. When I assured him I was anything but taken he smiled, leaning close until his lips were brushing against my ear. “I’m glad to hear that, because I might have had to steal you.”  
  
I giggled in the stupid way that these power-tripping men liked to hear and put my hand on his leg while I won another game. I decided that would be it, capping myself at the three grand I’d made over the past forty-five minutes. Every time someone won we drank, but I had to keep myself in check so that I was sober enough to work. As the time approached the hour and a quarter mark I started to grow anxious but did my absolute best to hide it, indulging Hayward in his infatuation and not pulling away when he kissed my neck or moved his hand from the chair to around my waist.  
  
“Excuse me ma’am,” The point man put his hand on my back and leaned beside me where Hayward couldn’t see. “I’ve been told to inform you that you’ve a call at the bar.”  
  
He disappeared quickly after that and Hayward walked with me while I cashed in my chips (he decided to throw in an extra two grand just for me to make it a solid 5k) and even as I picked up the phone call at the crowded bar. Of course it was the point man on the other line but he guided me through the conversation, telling me what to say so I could have an excuse to get out of the place.  
  
“Well that’s my cut off, unfortunately.” I gathered my purse and let Hayward settle his hands on my waist. He began to pout, asking if there was any way he could persuade me to stay and maybe go back to the VIP section with him. “As much as I’d love to I’ve got family functions I can’t miss. But how about you give me your number and I’ll give you a call when there’s a bit more free time in my schedule?”  
  
He wrote down his number and put the card into my hand before walking me to the front doors. I could see Arthur’s car at the front, waiting for me. Hayward took my hand and kissed it before letting me go. When I made it to the car I got into the back seat to avoid any suspicion and relished in the fact that I was finally free.  
  
“A shower sounds pretty delightful right about now.” I hissed, maneuvering my way into the front seat and putting on my belt. “Did you find anything good?”  
  
“There were a few things, but considering he’s out I figured now would be a good time to see what he keeps at home.” For the most part he kept his eyes forward, but now and again he would look over at me like I’d been through something terrible. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, I should have been better prepared.”  
  
“Trust me when I tell you what Hayward did was nothing compared to what some of my employers have tried.” I said seriously, looking him dead in the eye to make him understand that it wasn’t his fault. “You know what your problem is, point man? You care too much. That ticker in your chest is two sizes too big and it’s going to be a burden someday.”  
  
I gave him a weak smile and reached out to take his hand in mine. His eyebrows furrowed at the gesture but I kept a grip on him all the same: because I knew all too well that sometimes someone just needed to know there was another human being out there who gave a damn about their existence. And sometimes you didn’t need words to make that apparent. I didn’t know if it was just because I was so used to having unpleasant employers or if it was because these boys were actually worth it, but this little team of dream sharers was working their way into my heart.  
  
When he pulled up to the gate of Hayward’s house I opened the metal barrier and closed it behind us. Arthur parked as out of sight as he could and we walked up to the front door. Putting my hand on the lock I made it open and let myself in, admiring the beauty of the place, but also the emptiness of it. It was full of expensive and top of the line furnishings but there wasn’t a soul for him to share it with. No wife waiting for him to come home, no little children left to greet daddy, no pet to perk up whenever he walked in the door.  
  
“Where’s Mrs. Hayward?” I asked as Arthur went around clearing the different rooms, gun held in the ready position.  
  
“Guam. Booked a last minute ticket—something must have set her off.” He murmured absently as I trailed after him.  
  
“Maybe she caught him with another girl.” I offered, following him into a study. One wall was covered with books but the desk in the middle was Arthur’s focus. There were locked drawers that I helped with, watching him as he crouched down and started to rifle through the papers with his black leather gloves on. I wandered around the room, running my fingers along the dusty books and scanning the spines for anything good. Arthur picked a few pieces of paper out of different folders and took pictures of them before putting them back in exactly the same spot. I curled up on a seat in the corner and continued to watch him for lack of anything better to do.  
  
“All your intelligence, all your resourcefulness, you could have done anything in the world.” I said aloud as he moved from one side of the desk to the other. He paused to look up at me. “Why this? Why dream sharing?”  
  
“It’s a bit of a long story, really.” He said after a moment, returning to his work but with only half the focus. I nodded, not wanting to prod, but after a few minutes he started to speak. “My mom died when I was six. She uh, she had really aggressive lung cancer. But my dad had been bad long before that. He didn’t need to be drunk to want to beat me up but it definitely helped.”  
  
“Makes you wonder if any man is capable of being a good dad, huh?” I said spitefully, picking at my nails just to give my hands something to do. He laughed: an exhausted sort of noise like this joke had been running for his whole life.  
  
“I was never very good at socializing, it was just much easier to keep to myself. Let everyone else interact. I guess I sort of excelled at finding things out about people and when I found out about dream sharing…How do you resist something like that? It was a place where you didn’t need a degree or references to succeed. I could do a job and do it well and that was the bottom line. No real variables, a guaranteed constant. Dom hired me on a whim and we’ve been pretty much working together ever since.”  
  
“Funny how one person can make the difference.” I mused quietly, plunging us into silence. After a moment or two I got up and grabbed my handbag. “I’m going to go look around the place.”  
  
“Saria—” Arthur called me back at the last minute, standing up and anxiously pressing his knuckles against the desktop. He hesitated for a while before finally speaking but I waited patiently at the archway. “I would um…I’d really appreciate it if we could keep all that just between us.”  
  
“Arthur.” I said with some mixture of sadness and pride. Had he really never told anyone else that before? Not Eames, not Yusuf, no one? It was always a strange sensation when you found out someone trusted you on a level like that. I crossed over to him, stopping just a few steps away. “Not if my warping depended on it.”  
  
“Thanks.” He said quietly, avoiding eye contact. I frowned, reaching up and turning his face back towards me.  
  
“Look, there’s a reason why they’re called sob stories, it’s because they’re just that: stories. And seeing as we’ve officially swapped pity I think we should make a pact to never do it again. Which means no more of those goddamn looks from you whenever you think something bad is happening to me, alright point man?”  
  
“Deal.” He nodded, laughing lightly. It was strange, to be so open. I smiled and pulled him into a hug, knowing that in seconds the moment would pass and we’d return to the formal and polite manner as usual.  
  
When I let go I turned away immediately and walked off towards the staircase. My heels clicked on every step, the sound echoing through the halls as I worked my way through the upper level. I wandered in and out of all the rooms, admiring all the expensive things I could never hope to afford even with the paychecks I was getting. I was careful not to touch anything with my bare hands so as to avoid leaving any prints. This whole detective work was an awful lot of fun, though, and I completely understood why Arthur enjoyed it.  
  
The Hayward master bedroom was just as extravagant as I expected it to be, with not only a shower and separate bath in the washroom but a full on hot tub as well. The bathroom suite alone was the size of my entire living room and kitchen. I was barely in there five minutes when Arthur found me and started going on about a potential safe hidden somewhere in the room; a typical of most marks of Hayward’s calibre.  
  
I half-heartedly helped in the search but I kept getting sidetracked by little things I would find in the place. Things that I could only assume were put there by his wife long ago when things weren’t so messed up. Pictures of them together in freshly dusted frames, a jewellery box full of trinkets he’d no doubt bought in an attempt to recapture her love (or at the very least her trust), little trinkets that had been moved over and over, never really having a proper place. Pieces that never really fit but that they tried to force together anyways.  
  
At some point Arthur had wandered out of the room, but I didn’t notice until he came back in with a panicked look on his face. I began to ask what was wrong but he was in front of me in a heartbeat, clasping one hand over my mouth and using his other to wrap around my middle. He lifted me up and dragged me over to the closet, sliding the frosted glass door shut behind him just as footsteps began to echo up the stairs. He pushed me against the wall and stood in front of me, making eye contact to be sure I understood what was happening before lowering his hand. He pulled out his gun, keeping it at his side with his finger on the trigger as Hayward walked into the room.  
  
My heart was hammering like a drum in my chest as I tried to figure out how the hell we were supposed to get out of this. Arthur’s free hand was braced on the wall beside my head but his eyes were trained on the silhouette of the man we could see through the door.  
  
“I don’t care what it takes, I want you to find her. I’ve only got a few weeks till Lara gets home, I want to make the most of it.” Hayward said into his cellphone, peeling off his jacket and letting it land on the ground with a thud. “Check the tapes. She was wearing a long silver dress, straight black hair, boobs you don’t see past thirty.”  
  
I exchanged a look with Arthur, wondering if he understood that Hayward was talking about me. Judging from the look on his face, he most certainly did. His fingers absently gripped the gun tighter and I tried to work quickly to plan an escape. I wanted to try and get my phone out but I was worried the motions of going through my clutch would make too much noise, so I felt around Arthur’s jacket until I found his. I typed out a short message about how I could try and seduce Hayward so he could get away and then turned the screen to him.  
  
He looked up at me with a frown and fervently shook his head. But when he looked at me, something was different. Being obtusely close like this and all cooped up in a closet, for some reason I had the drive to lean forward and kiss him. Wasn’t that how these things worked? Boy and girl get stuck in some impossible situation and fall hopelessly into one another’s embrace? Hayward shuffled close to the closet door and my heart stopped, the point man’s body flattening against mine like a shield as he raised the gun. I was taking in every detail of him: the way the filtered light reflected in his eyes, the strong jawline, the way his lips were slightly parted, the path his hairline took, the way the suit fit his body. But he looked away and the moment passed and I buried it six layers down before returning the phone.  
  
Hayward turned on the television and started flipping channels, giving enough background noise that I felt comfortable breathing. Arthur took a deep breath and started to explain in just above a whisper that he was going to try and knock him unconscious. I stopped him mid-sentence when I started to feel something in the back of the closet. Frowning, my hand pressed to the wall trying to zero in on the final shape of it. Was that a door? Bracing myself on his shoulders, I reached one hand down and slipped one heel off, switching hands and stumbling for a moment before he caught me. When both my shoes were off I put my hand on Arthur’s chest and pushed him away a little so I had room to slink to the back of the closet where there was an armoire. Opening the door, I felt a series of wires running to a hidden keypad and bypassed them completely, willing the backboard of the closet open and with it the metal door behind.  
  
I raised my eyebrows at Arthur, pleased with myself, and began to lift up the edge of my dress so I could make it across the gap. The point man held my hand so I was steady as I crawled into the hidden room. He kept his gun pointed at the closet door as he crawled in after me, only lowering it as I closed the door behind him. The lights in the room were on a sensor and flickered to life, illuminating a series of filing cabinets, a computer system, and a dozen screens showing live feeds from security cameras all around the place.  
  
“ _I should be fine without backup._ ” I mocked, shaking my head at him even as he laughed. “How’s this for a hidden safe?”  
  
“It’s exactly what I was hoping for.” He admitted, crossing over to the filing cabinets and looking at me until I opened them for him. “I probably would have set off the alarm when I found it myself.”  
  
It took about thirty minutes for Arthur to sort through things and decide what was worth it and what wasn’t, and while he did that I studied the only other door in the room. Through enough focus I found out led to a staircase that ended in the garage. I thought Arthur was done when he closed the last drawer but he moved to the computer and started to play around with it until the screens were full of images of us. I watched as they were each erased and the live feeds cut entirely. It was definitely something I would have missed. I grabbed my shoes at his word and we worked our way through the escape route, thanking Hayward and his strange ways for giving as an alternative to staying in a closet for however long he decided to be home.  
  
Only when we made it into the car and out of the gate did I feel like I was breathing normally again, the anxiety of potentially being caught having left me a nervous wreck. Slouching in the seat, I looked over at the point man and couldn’t help but laugh. There were so many points in the day where things could have made a turn for the terrible, but somehow we had everything he needed and we made it out without setting any alarms off. He laughed despite himself too, shaking his head at the whole situation. It was the definition of dumb luck, but it was a success nonetheless.  
  


* * *

  
“You’re sure you’ll find out the location of the other accounts and records in there?”  
  
We were two layers deep in the job, the lot of us held up in a van across the street from an underground safe house hidden by a drycleaner on top. It was the place Arthur found in his research that made the most sense to keep whatever possible documents he didn’t find anywhere else. There was no record of this place in any of Hayward’s bank statements, but the point man had managed to trace an offshore account that was funding this place.  
  
“No,” Cobb admitted. “But there’s a good chance he’s keeping something down there. Do you have a reading on the place?”  
  
“It’s harder when there isn’t a blueprint.” I said as I worked to sweep through the metal in the basement of the place as best as I could. “There’s definitely a vault, but it looks like there’s a lot of security devices on it and the things inside. I’ll do what I can to disable them but I can’t guarantee I’ll get everything.”  
  
“Just take us as far as you can.” Dom said calmly, nodding to me as the team started to equip themselves with guns and ammo. Arthur was keeping an eye on the surroundings, and with good reason. Part of the point man’s job was to find out about what sort of subconscious security we’d be working with in the dream, and Hayward’s made me nervous.  
  
There were different levels of sub-security depending on how much you had to spend. It could range anywhere from learning to wake yourself up to having a well-armed subconscious. There were always the eccentric ones, though, in any field of any occupation. Ones who took it to an extreme. Hayward had been trained by one of them. He called himself Takuma: a Japanese ex-monk who had become a master of the dream world. Studying Takuma’s methods in an attempt to prepare for them was like watching videos of 50 different boxers before a fight. He never used the same tactics on more than one client, making them all wildcards. But we went under nonetheless, knowing that the worst case scenario was we wouldn’t get what we needed and we’d just find another job.  
  
“We’ve got some guns about six blocks away.” I announced as the team prepared to get out of the van. “If you want to get enough of a head start you better do it now.”  
  
“Let’s move.” Dom ordered. We all climbed out of the van and calmly crossed the street, loitering at the entrance to the dry cleaners while I wormed my senses into the basement and disabled everything that I could. From what I could tell there weren’t any guards down there, but that wasn’t a guarantee.  
  
“Okay, you should be good to go now.” I nodded, moving to open the door but being called back by the tone of I nodded, moving to open the door but being called back by the tone of Yusuf’s voice.  
  
“What the hell is that?” We all turned, following Yusuf’s line of sight to the distance. My eyes grew wide, watching as the earth about thirty blocks down began to rise up like a mountain.  
  
“Saria, is that you?” Eames asked with the slightest level of worry in his voice. He knew the answer to the question but he asked anyways.  
  
“I’m a metal warper, sweetheart, not an earth bender.”  
  
“It’s Takuma.” Arthur said, gritting his teeth. The earth began to shake and I sighed, knowing what was coming. I pulled out my totem, watching as the needle spun in circles again and again just to be sure.  
  
“Your timeline just got a lot shorter boys, so I suggest you move _now_.” I steadied myself on the sidewalk, circling my shoulders a few times and taking some deep breaths. I knew how hard this was going to be, and the nerves weren’t helping in the slightest. “Arthur, darling, you don’t happen to remember where I put the nearest junkyard do you?”  
  
“3 blocks southwest.” He said robotically before I reiterated the need for them all to leave immediately. The earth continued to rumble as a full on landslide started. I had to hand it to Takuma, this was one hell of a security measure. Without any further hesitation I pulled all the metal scraps from the junkyard in front of me, quickly working to meld them together into one thick sheet. When that wasn’t enough I started to siphon metal from any surrounding cars or buildings as best I could, building up the height, width, and density of this wall that I needed to stall the impending natural disaster. “How long do you think it’ll give them?”  
  
I looked back at Arthur, frowning at the fact that the others had already left but he was still there.  
  
“They need you more than I do, point man, get down there.”  
  
“They’ll be fine without me.” He argued, tossing his gun into the whirlwind of metal to give me more to work with. I rolled my eyes at him, growing impatient as little bits of dirt began to roll by my feet. The mass of earth was coming at us like water bursting through a dam, but Arthur didn’t understand. It would be a quick death for them when the buildings collapsed on them, but holding back this landslide wouldn’t be easy or quick in any sense of the word.  
  
“Just finish the job!” I yelled, pulling up the massive metal wall and bracing myself against it while summoning every ounce of strength I had. I could feel the point man’s gaze on me but my cares for it were wiped clean as soon as the impact came.  
  
It nearly knocked me off my feet but I gathered myself once more and focused with every part of me I could spare. Bullets started to fly towards us but I sent them straight into the wall, heaving out breaths to keep from passing out as long as possible. When blood started to trickle down my noise Arthur anxiously pointed it out, and I used what little strength I could spare to open the door of the dry cleaners, use spare metal to push him inside, and then weld the whole thing shut.  
  
The earth began to pile up more and more on the other side of wall and I could see the land tilting up farther and farther in an attempt to force as much dirt down as possible. It felt like someone was taking an axe to my brain only I couldn’t die or pass out from shock. My whole body was shaking and I could taste the blood as it dripped into my mouth, this metallic flavour that made me feel like I was bleeding the stuff I was warping.  
  
My feet began to slid backwards inch by inch and tears wiggled from my eyes, a scream stuck in my throat. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought I was having a full on lobotomy without anesthesia, it hurt that much. The pain was starting to spread to my muscles and as my back finally pressed against the doors I knew that the team’s time was up. I did what little left I could until the metal wall was pressing against my own hands, the force of the earth on the other side. I tried to blink the darkness away but it clouded my vision and seemed too sweet and the second one part of me gave in I was lost, falling to the ground and swallowed by the abyss.  
  
The first thing I was aware of as the sedative slowly relinquished its hold on me was level of the voices. People were arguing about something, and some were calling my name. I was going to respond before my other senses caught up and the pain hit me full force. My whole body began to shake, throat choking on the blood tricking in from my nose. My eyes opened to the too-bright lights of the warehouse and I rolled over, barely able to hold myself up as I coughed up the blood. The redness was still streaming from my nose but I could feel wetness at my ears too and I knew this was worse than I thought.  
  
“Jesus—we need to get her to a hospital!” Arthur roared, reaching out and grabbing my arms. I screamed out when his skin touched mine, steam sizzling into the air at the contact. I was heaving in deep breaths and looked down at my skin, at the paleness it’d taken on and the way my veins were all turning black.  
  
“Not—a—hospital.” I choked out, shakily sitting up and conquering the worst of the tremors.  
  
“Eames, get Hayward out of here now. Yusuf, we need water. Arthur, get back. Give her room to breathe.” Dom ordered, standing a safe distance but watching me with an unusual look of concern. I pushed myself up and swayed for a few moments, clutching my head and trying not to cry. I stumbled away from them, crashing into a wall and using it to brace myself as I wandered into the bathroom at the end of the big hall.  
  
It hurt so much more than I remembered and behind the sanctuary of a closed door I wept, trying to ignore the sight of my veins and the throbbing pain all over. I feebly tried to wipe some of the blood off my face but nearly jumped at the sight of myself in the dirty mirror. I looked like a walking corpse.  
  
Turning away quickly I continued to mop the blood until I gave up entirely. There was a brief moment where I thought it was passing before there was an overwhelming onslaught of pain that couldn’t be remotely possible. I reached out for something to balance myself with but my grip was incredibly weak, my body colliding with cold concrete before the world once more slipped away.  
  
There were fleeting moments of consciousness, mostly blurry. But I remembered no longer being in the warehouse, I remembered gentle voices, and I remember twenty seconds of coherence where Arthur was beside me and I called to him. When I finally woke up properly, I felt one-hundred percent better. I eased myself up, stretching in my bed and admiring the sun as it set on the horizon of the forest. The bed felt delightful and I didn’t want to leave it, but my clothing was still bloody and I wanted to get out of it.  
  
As I changed I realized there was no longer blood staining my face; someone had taking the time to wipe it off, and I had a guess at who it was. When I was all freshened up I went downstairs, smiling at the sound of Eames and Arthur arguing about the proper use of some word. Eames was in the kitchen yelling his retorts at the point man in the living area. It smelled like the forger was eating French fries so I made that my first stop, wandering over to him and swiping some out of the fast food container. He cried out in protest but paused at the sight of me, staring even as I sat down at the island.  
  
“Sorry, I’m starving.” I explained, reaching for another handful. The point man was still talking and Eames called out to him once, then again with a more urgent tone. I frowned at him, turning away to grab a pop out of the fridge and cracking it open. By the time I turned around the two of them were staring like I had an axe coming out of my head. “What’s the matter with you two?”  
  
“Didn’t know if sleeping beauty would ever come back to us.” Eames joked, but his eyes betrayed him. There was worry there, a fraction of the stuff painted on Arthur’s face.  
  
“How many hours was I out?”  
  
“Saria,” Arthur began gently. “You’ve been unconscious for three days.”  
  
“ _What_?” I breathed, trying to fathom it.  
  
“We…We had to call Staci to know what to do, but even she said if you weren’t up by tonight we needed to do something.”  
  
“Well I’m fine now, so…” I trailed off, taking a big gulp of my drink. Dom walked in with Yusuf and the both of them reacted in the exact some way. “I’m serious guys, I’m back to full health. Let’s just…How about we go out for drinks or something? Did you end up finding what you needed for Hayward?”  
  
“Saria…” Dom began, setting his briefcase on the counter and looking straight at me.  
  
“Did you miss some things? Do we have to go back under? I tried to hold off the landslide as long as I could, I’m sorry.”  
  
“We got what we needed but I…I need to know what happened to you.”  
  
“You guys are making a big deal out of nothing, really.” I said, looking away from them and down at my own hands. “The way the power works…It isn’t infinite. It can take a lot out of me depending on what it is, and unfortunately trying to hold back a landslide is enough to do me in for a while. I’m sorry, I probably should have mentioned something about it. If you…I mean, if you need to terminate the contract I understand.”  
  
“This has nothing to do with contracts,” Dom began. “And everything to do with your safety and your own health. I don’t want you putting yourself in a situation like that again, understood?”  
  
I nodded and watched as the extractor and the chemist wandered off. Eames cleared his throat, pushing the box of fries over for me to have and getting to his feet. He patted me on the back as he started to walk away.  
  
“Come on darling, let’s go for those drinks.”  
  
The point man stayed behind, giving me that same damn look of abhorrent concern like I had actually died or something. I raised an eyebrow at him, eating a few more fries before needing to get away from his look.  
  
“I thought we made a deal, point man.” I mumbled as I passed him. He reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it for a few seconds before letting it drop.  
  
“That was before I thought you were dying.” He said quietly, staring at me. I gave him a weak smile but his face stayed the same.  
  
“I’m fine. I promise.” I lingered for a moment to see if he would accept but I grew anxious of the staring battle and turned away from him. Leaving him alone in the kitchen, I felt the ghost of his hand on mine but pushed it out of my mind.


	5. Slip-Up

There was no part of me that needed to go downstairs to know that it was Eames blasting the television. I could imagine him clearly in my mind all sprawled out on the sofa, likely a drink in hand, relaxing in his favourite way between jobs. I groaned, rolling over and trying to bury my head under the pillow. It was no use, though, because not only did it fail to block the sound but it failed to block the sunlight pouring in through the balcony doors.  
  
Rolling over I grasped for my phone, lifting it up and squinting to see the time on the display. I expected it to be some ungodly hour but it was unfortunately almost noon. After a few more minutes of pretending I could go back to sleep, I rolled out of bed and stretched. I probably should have slept longer given we’d just finished our third job yesterday, but I was up now and there was no hope of falling back asleep with all that noise downstairs.  
  
As I wandered into the bathroom I could hear Eames and Yusuf talking about whatever they were watching with periodic laughter. Pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I grabbed my toothbrush out of the holder and tried to get the paste on while blinking away the sleep. The second door opened as I turned on the tap, Arthur rubbing his eyes before realizing he wasn’t alone. He stammered out an apology and turned to leave.  
  
“It’s fine, I don’t need the sink for now.” I tapped the brush on the edge of the sink to get the excess water off before retreating to the other side of the room and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He promised he wouldn’t be long, grabbing a razor and covering his face with shaving cream. “You’d think two months in we’d have figured out this sharing a bathroom thing.”  
  
He laughed but looked more like Santa Claus than Arthur with all the stuff on his face. While I cleaned my teeth he began to clear away sections on his face. He was much better at keeping his eyes focused than I was. I lost count of the amount of times I ended up looking over at him, shamefully admiring the way he looked in a t-shirt with his hair all messy from the sleep.  
  
When I was done I got up, gently nudging him out of the way and rinsing my mouth before leaving him alone. Making sure the door was shut I pulled on some comfortable clothes and went downstairs. The forger and the chemist were still arguing when I walked into the living area and turned the television way down.  
  
“If I ever wake up again on a day off again because you feel like filling the house with the sound of your shows, I swear to god I will harm you.” Throwing the remote back at them they went quiet save for a few snickering laughs. I made some toast and put the coffee maker on, debating whether or not I felt like drinking outside when the machine was finished. “Have you seen Dom?”  
  
“He’s in his cave.” Yusuf joked, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard and pouring himself a coffee. Eames came over as well, pausing to look at the newspaper on the counter.  
  
“Which one?” The forger teased, smirking at his accomplice as if they were the wittiest people they’d ever met. I gave them a look while I poured to cups of coffee. Stirring sugar into one of them, I grabbed the handles and walked past them.  
  
“You boys always this mean or just on days that end in y?”  
  
I nearly bumped into the point man as he came down the stairs but thankfully avoided any collision. I let him know there was coffee on before pushing on down the hallway to Dom’s room. The door was open which meant he likely wasn’t there, and after a quick peek inside my suspicions were confirmed. There was one more place the extractor had claimed for himself, a sunroom at the end of the hall that was completely glass. Using my foot I tapped on the door, watching as he looked up at me and came to open it.  
  
“Two sugars, no cream.” I recited, handing him the beverage. He smiled faintly and thanked me, a tired look in his eyes and a mess of papers on the table. He thanked me and I turned to leave, but he called me back at the last moment.  
  
“Saria I—I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.” His tone made me nervous but I nodded, coming back in and closing the door behind me. I sat across from him on one of the couches and took a sip of my coffee while he sat silently. “This is going to sound strange, but I’m in a bit of a tight spot and I…You’re the only person I trust well enough to help me with this.”  
  
“You’re scaring me Dom…Is everything okay?”  
  
“Of course, everything’s fine, I just…” He sighed heavily, sitting back in his chair and looking up at me. “I have a daughter, Phillipa. She’s almost thirteen now and she’s…Well, she’s going through puberty and I’m having a hard time understanding her most of the time. I just—I want to be a good father but I don’t know how to treat her. She’s acting out, she’s always having mood swings, and I’m sure it doesn’t help that she doesn’t see me often.”  
  
“Dom…You can absolutely tell me if this is out of place or that you don’t want to talk about it, but can I ask why you’re still dream sharing?”  
  
He took a minute before recounting the story Arthur had told me about his family, how he had accidentally performed inception on his own wife, how she had committed suicide and framed him, and how one employer managed to clear his name.  
  
“The problem is, it didn’t make everything work out as neatly as I thought it would. Whatever Saito did got me into the country, made it so that I was untouchable by the law, but it didn’t make it easy to get a legal occupation. So I stuck with what I knew I was good at. I try to keep the jobs as close to home as possible, but it’s impossible to balance things right. At some point I decided the best thing to do was to do as many jobs as I could in a short amount of time to get all the money I would need, and then quit. I’m just worried that by the time I’m finished I’ll have missed all the important times in their lives.”  
  
“Coming from experience let me tell you a present father isn’t always a good father.” I began, trying to lighten the mood but somehow darkening it even more. “I won’t pretend to know a thing about parenting, but I do remember being an angsty teenage girl and to be honest Dom there isn’t a whole lot you can do. I mean, I’m just going to be stating the obvious in that her acting out is a cry for attention because she probably misses you, but explaining to her a thousand times why you’re doing what you’re doing won’t help. Unfortunately logic doesn’t mend an aching heart. It might help the next time you see her to sit her down and instead of explaining why, explain what. Tell her about what you do so she doesn’t feel like a kid being kept in the dark. And just…Just tell her you love her. Hug her. Promise her there’ll be a day when you’ll be there full time for her to scream at.”  
  
He laughed, but it was a sad laugh. A desperate laugh. He put his head in his hands, sighing heavily before running his fingers through his hair. It was only when he looked up again that I saw his eyes were watering. “It just…It was never supposed to be this way.”  
  
“I’m so sorry Dom.” I said quietly, watching him for a moment before slowly going over and wrapping my arms around him. He was hesitant at first but he returned the gesture, sighing again. I could feel his chest shaking as he tried to hold in those king-sized tears and it made me feel a pain I hadn’t felt in years. A ripping sensation deep down where my heart was. When he’d gotten control of himself he patted me on the back and I let go, grabbing my coffee off the table and retreating to the door as he thanked me. I turned at the threshold, hovering for a moment while I forced the words out of my throat. “You know…Just for the record, I would have been really proud if you were my dad.”  
  
No part of me doubted that if I lingered a second longer I’d start crying like an infant so I turned away immediately and closed the door behind me. What were those rules Stephen had drilled into our heads? Always be prepared, expect your best not perfection, and _do not get attached_. Because the contract will end and you’ll be tied to other people and you’ll rue the day you ever acknowledged the part of you that could love. Hell, Staci and I lived on the same floor and we barely saw each other. What was going to happen to me when I left these people behind?  
  
In the living area the point man and the forger were sitting on the couch watching some news report, so I sat between them and finished off my coffee. I was staring at the screen but missing every word the news anchor was saying; instead thinking about the team and realizing how ridiculously attached I’d gotten. We’d all learned to live together in a strange level of peace considering some of our personalities, but it went beyond coexisting. I enjoyed being around all of them.  
  
Eames went to reach for something in his pocket and accidentally brushed his knuckle against my side. I violently twitched away, earning a frown from the forger.  
  
“I’m extremely ticklish.” I mumbled, turning back to the television.  
  
“Really?” He asked with genuine curiosity. A moment later he poked me in the same spot, causing me to jump again and almost squeak. I gave him a warning look, holding my hands up as a grin spread on his face. “That’s very interesting.”  
  
“Don’t you dare, forger. I will not be held responsible if you get kicked in the face.” I threatened, leaning away from him. The grin stayed on his face even as we sat in a stalemate, but it only took a moment for him to pounce.  
  
I screamed, trying to get off the couch but he pulled me back down and sent me into the sort of hyperventilating state that being tickled could put you in. I crawled backwards, kicking wildly until I crashed into the point man. His body proved as a wall that let the forger get a better angle at me, but the point man pulled me away. I was sitting on the edge of his lap, hands clutching his as they wrapped around my waist, my lungs struggling to recapture the air I was lacking. The thing that had stopped Eames wasn’t the point man, though; it was the fact that I was hovering six knives in front of his face.  
  
“Check mate, bitch.” I huffed out, smiling despite myself.  
  
“Well that’s not exactly fair now is it, darling?” He grinned, tearing his eyes away from the blades and looking up at me. Arthur laughed and I felt the action reverberate through my back, realizing how we must have looked.  
  
“What the hell?” Yusuf said from the kitchen as he looked at the spectacle of us. I immediately put the knives back and got up, straightening my clothes and looking down at the others.  
  
“Eames was being rude.” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. Yusuf looked at the three of us like we were crazy people before shaking his head and turning to me.  
  
“I could use your help with some of the equipment if you’ve got a moment.” He asked hopefully as I brought my empty mug into the kitchen.  
  
“You know I don’t know how to work any of that stuff, Yusuf.”  
  
“I don’t need you to work it,” He explained. “I need you to fix it.”  
  
He led me down to the basement (which didn’t feel like a basement at all because of the walkouts and the windows) to where he had his chemistry stuff set up. Leading me to a specific part, he illustrated how his hand couldn’t fit into the space in order to tighten one of the screws. He explained how he could just take it apart to reach it but it would be a waste of the chemicals he already had working through the complex system of tubes and beakers.  
  
I worked my hand into the jungle of glass and plastic and pointed at the screws to make sure I’d be working on the right ones. When he gave me the confirmation I tightened them and he thanked me, giving a brief explanation of what it was he was concocting this time before showing me the general process he was using to make it. We talked a bit about his life back home and his family and the different customs here that he had to get used to.  
  
Later that night Eames made the proposition that the lot of us have a night out to celebrate our pay day (which made no sense because we’d already had pay days before, but we went with it). It was an excuse to get dolled up, so I made myself look pretty and put on a plum red dress. Eames led the way to his bar of choice: a place much more casual than I’d anticipated from the forger, but nice all the same. It had a homey sort of feel, with a pool table and a dart board and a little stage with a karaoke machine. Thankfully no one was drunk enough (yet) to be singing up there.  
  
The lot of us got the last free semi-circle booth and I slid in beside Dom and Arthur. We ordered a round of drinks and some good greasy food, relaxing into our seats. It was nice to be out with them all relaxing, but then I remembered that it was dangerous to feel safe. It was problematic to settle into any feeling of security. I would have to limit the drinks tonight despite my desire to do otherwise because if something happened here and we were attacked one of us needed to be able to help. I started to scan the bar, feeling for any metal weapons, but came up empty. That didn’t mean there weren’t other ways to harm us, so I looked for anyone suspicious.  
  
“I think we’ve lost our warper.” Eames remarked, lifting the beer bottle to his mouth and smirking at me. I gave him a look before returning to my surveillance. “What are you looking for?”  
“Just because we aren’t on a job doesn’t mean I’m off the clock.” I said simply, focusing on a strange man in the corner drinking alone before moving on.  
  
“No matter how badly someone would want to come after us, I guarantee you that they would wait until we left. Probably follow us all home.” Dom reasoned, seeming to be in much higher spirits than when I’d last spoken to him. “You can take the night off.”  
  
I indulged him in halting my surveillance but kept a feeler out for any guns or knives. A plethora of food arrived shortly after, though, that did a fantastic job of claiming my attention. Fries, burgers, nachos, even a plate of calamari. After plates were passed around it became a blur of motion. Someone was always reaching across someone else to get a hold of the food, the condiments, or a pile of napkins. We joked and we teased and we laughed like real friends would on a night out. Like we weren’t a bunch of dream thieves with the capability of finding out these people’s deepest secrets.  
  
The drinks kept on coming and it hurt me to restrain, mostly because it felt like ages since I’d been properly and blissfully drunk, but it made it more amusing to see the others slowly dissolve into their respective types of drunks. Yusuf was the first to cross the line between tipsy and intoxicated, but he spent most of his time laughing at incredibly unfunny things, like anyone who walked by or the way we sounded when we spoke. Dom became a lot more talkative than usual, telling us stories of his favourite extraction jobs with dramatic re-enactments. Eames was probably the most amusing, not at all slurring his words or swaying, but doing impersonations of anyone we urged him to. He had drank almost twice as much as the others and still he was only a little tipsy: it just made me wonder what he was like when he was actually drunk.  
  
“Not this stupid song…”Arthur groaned, putting his head in his hands and trying to block his ears. He just seemed to get more mellow and quiet, but I had a very bad feeling that this would either lead to an outburst of emotion or an impulsive act. I listened and heard some love song playing and turned to him smirking.  
  
“I’m sensing a bad break up story, point man.” I teased, nudging him gently. He groaned again, shaking his head before downing the rest of his drink and ordering another one. I raised an eyebrow at him as he sighed.  
  
“Her name…Her name was Ariadne.” He forced out, keeping his head up with his hand and staring at a spot on the wall. He was quiet for a while and I looked over at Eames. He just shook his head, sighing. “You ever been in love?”  
  
“I can’t say that I have.” My hand reached out and grabbed some nachos just to busy themselves. There was some feeling inside of me squirming at the notion of this mystery girl that I wanted to warp out of existence.  
  
“She was…She was amazing. Smart, kind, all of that. And things…things were good for a while. She _completed_ me. One day she just leaves, saying she doesn’t want to do this anymore. No option for discussion, she was just…gone.”  
  
“Well there’s your problem right there.” I patted him on the back, trying not to laugh at the state he was in, clinging to the drink like his life depended on it. “It’s no use loving someone unless you’re already whole. You need to find someone who complements you, not completes you. You’ve got to be whole on your own.”  
  
He turned, staring at me as if he hadn’t seen me properly before, and nodded a few times. Like I’d just explained some great truth of the universe. He mumbled some incoherent form of thank you and went back to his drink, finishing it and sitting in silence. After a few minutes he looked up again with sudden clarity and started sliding out of the booth, pushing Eames out.  
  
“I’m going to use that karaoke machine.” He mumbled, stumbling over his own feet. Taking a moment to compose himself, he nodded to us all and marched off towards the little stage. I raised my eyebrows, looking over at Eames for some guide as to how this sort of thing was supposed to be handled. The three of them were just laughing at the point man, watching as he made his way onto the stage and struggled to get the thing working.  
  
“Poor boy’s head over heels.” Eames remarked, taking a drink. I watched the point man get tangled in the cord from the microphone and shook my head.  
  
“Still over Ariadne?” I asked, uncoiling the cable of the microphone with my mind. Eames was shaking his head from the corner of my eye.  
  
“Not her, darling, _you_.” He insisted, causing me to stare at him with wide eyes. With an amused grin on his face he nodded. I told him he must be mistaken as a blush crept onto my cheeks. “I read people for a living, I can tell when someone fancies a girl.”  
  
“You…You need some more practice then.” I joked uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes completely as my stomach started to churn. “Is no one going to stop him before he ends up on YouTube?”  
  
Yusuf had officially passed out on the table and Dom was just as amused by the whole thing as Eames was. The chemist started to cough and sounded like he might throw up so Dom said he would take him home. Seeing as the music started and the others (save Eames) were leaving, I figured it’d be best to coerce Arthur off the stage now.  
  
As soon as I moved towards the stage, though, he started calling me up with him to sing some song I’d never heard of. Shaking my head, I tried to convince him to come back with me. But with a drink in his hand he shook his head, insisting I get up on the stage with him before he carried me up there. I gave him a challenging look and crossed my arms, shutting off the microphone and using the microphone cable to trip him up. He stumbled off the stage and I helped steady him, promising he’d thank me in the morning. I got him back to the table where Dom and Yusuf (nearly asleep) were ready to go.  
  
“Point man, I swear to god I will ruin you if you end up puking on me.” I threatened before making sure Eames didn’t want to come home with the sober driver. Arthur half mumbled a promise and I nodded dismissively while the forger promised he would be fine. The point man turned to me, steadied himself and grabbed my face so I was looking at him.  
  
“I _promise_ I won’t throw up on you.” He said with a placid smile. I meant to move him towards the door but he brought his lips down on mine without warning. The action shocked me more than anything else, and for a moment it was the only thing that existed. But then I remembered that we were in the middle of a bar, and the whole team was here and he was piss drunk so I pushed him off of me. It seemed to sober him up, his eyes taking on an absolute clarity as he stepped back from me. Looking down he started to shake his head. “I shouldn’t—sorry I—I shouldn’t have done—sorry.”  
  
I nodded silently, refusing to acknowledge the proud grin on Eames’ face. Steering the point man after the others as we headed into the parking lot. Dom and I got the drunks in the back and made sure they were buckled in. I did the same for Dom despite the fact that he was the most coherent of the three, before getting into the driver’s seat and following the path back to the house.  
  
Dom was heaving the passed-out chemist downstairs, leaving me to deal with the point man. He was still awake enough that I didn’t have to drag him, but he still needed to lean on me for support. There were a few times I thought I was going to topple over with the way he swayed but eventually we made it to the top of the stairs and I dragged him into his room.  
  
It was just as neat and organized as I imagined it would be. The layout of the room was the same as mine which made navigating through it in the dark a lot easier. When I finally got him onto the bed I had the chance to turn on a lamp so I could see as I took off his shoes. He started to get comfortable on the bed while I worked his tie off so he wouldn’t suffocate. I went to leave but he grabbed my hand, pressing it to his forehead and sighing. He was speaking too quietly for me to hear so I leaned close. It was some drunken rambling about me being wonderful and thanking me.  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” I said dismissively as I went to leave. He held me back, though, begging me to sit with him for a little bit. I battled with the decision, not knowing if it was the best idea. What if he tried to kiss me again? My apprehensiveness had nothing to do with the action and everything to do with his mental state. Because he could kiss me all he wanted, but in the morning he’d forget it all and I’d be the one stuck with conflicting emotions and an ache in my chest. Not him. But he persisted and I climbed onto the bed beside him, leaning against the headboard while he curled up against me.  
  
“Your hair smells like wildflowers, didja know that?” He mumbled, holding one of my hands as his eyes closed. “Like springtime…and sunshine.”  
  
“You are _wasted_ , Arthur.”  
  
“I know.” He moaned, pulling me closer. “I know…I know…I know…”


	6. Nudge

“So I was thinking of putting metal scrap yards here, here, and down to the south a little here.”  
  
The sun was setting, a few minutes shy of dipping behind the trees. It cast an orange glow on the gazebo and the blueprint on the floor. I was kneeling in front of it with the forger beside me, tossing grapes into his mouth now and again as he helped me plan. The blueprint for the city I was making was a thin sheet of metal that I had drawn all over with permanent marker. When I was ready I could pull up parts of the metal to make it three-dimensional and far more accurate.  
  
“You don’t think you want one by the north-west corner?” He asked, pointing to a blank spot in my plans. I stared at the place for a while before tilting it up and tracing a path with my finger.  
  
“This is our general road if everything goes as planned, so I don’t think it’ll be necessary to have one all the way over there.” It was much farther away than we were ever planning to go, but the more I thought about it the more I remembered the Takuma incident and how I didn’t want to ever feel that way again. “But it wouldn’t hurt, just to be safe.”  
  
“Now in the second level of the dream,” Eames began, pulling the second sheet of metal from under the first and pointing to some of the things I already noted down. “The building itself is pretty straight-forward, but it might be a good idea to put some sort of emergency exit, yeah?”  
  
“Are we talking ventilation system or full on underground tunnel?” I let him think about the details of his request while I started playing with patterns and window designs. A huge pile of photographs sat beside me, serving as inspiration and research material for all the planning required to make a two-level dream that the mark would believe.  
  
“Well there’s no way I’m crawling through a dusty old shaft if you can make us a nice hallway behind the walls, darling.” He teased, raising an eyebrow at me. The joke settled quickly when he thought of another thing to add, though, motioning for me to send the second sheet closer to him. “The safe house, yeah? I know Dom’s a big fan of using old warehouses but might we try something a little more…comfortable?”  
  
“You’ve got to run that sort of thing past the boss, sweetheart. I just cut and paste what I’m given onto a pretty little map.”  
  
Across the lawn the back door opened and Yusuf was waving to us. When I called Eames’ attention to it the chemist yelled out that Dom was making dinner for us all. I nodded to him, giving him the thumbs up to show we heard him before starting to pack everything up. Eames helped where he could before getting up and stretching. I put all the papers and pictures on top of the sheets so I didn’t have to carry them back, and we started the trek across the grass.  
  
“So how long are you and Arthur going to play this game, hm?” He asked, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. I gave him a look before turning away and crossing my arms.  
  
“Eames, please…”  
  
It had been almost two weeks since that stupid night out that was the forger’s idea in the first place. It hadn’t taken Arthur long to fall asleep but he kept mumbling things as he drifted into unconsciousness that made my stomach swirl. When I was sure he was out and meant to get up his grip tightened around me and one coherent word made it out of his throat: _stay_.  
  
Sometime after 3 I was able to slip away, by which time Eames had finally made it home and was downstairs when I went to get a drink. He started making some smart-ass remark but stopped not long after seeing my expression. I had gone right back up to my room without a word, double checking that my door to the bathroom was locked as well as my bedroom door before attempting to sleep.  
  
The next morning when I went down to get a coffee he’d been in the kitchen nursing the expected hangover, but the way he looked at me let me know he somehow hadn’t forgotten what had happened. I was quick to get the coffee and retreat upstairs. My attempt at peacefully reading a book left me reading the same paragraph about forty times over before there was a gentle knock on my door. I sighed, not needing to hear his voice through the barrier to know it was him. I brought the mug with me as if it would help in some way before opening the door.  
  
It was strange seeing him that way: he looked just like Arthur the point man, with his slicked back hair and well-tailored suit and his hands in his pockets and his solid stance. But his voice betrayed him when he spoke, it was no longer the eloquent and refined speech I was used to: it was choppy and stumbling and hesitant.  
  
“Hey I just—I um, I wanted to—well, I owe you an apology for how I—I acted last night. It was um—Yeah it was just completely out of line and you—you shouldn’t have had to deal it. I’m sorry.”  
  
The difference between him and me was simple: where his voice betrayed him my body betrayed me. My voice was just as carefree and sturdy and normal as ever, but the rest of me strayed. My eyes watched him unblinkingly, my hand curled into a fist at my side, my teeth were grinding in my mouth. But the words sounded true enough so I prayed they would keep him at bay.  
  
“Don’t worry about it point man, it’s no big deal. You didn’t puke on me, after all.”  
  
We exchanged an awkward laugh after that and eventually parted. It hadn’t gotten any less awkward after that; in fact for the past two weeks he and I had regressed to the level of formality we’d had upon first meeting. As if we were strangers getting used to each other all over again. We were polite and kind and even dared cracking jokes once or twice, but dear god the tension was nearly _tangible_. Most nights it left me going to sleep with a knot in my stomach that only tightened whenever I heard him moving around in the next room.  
  
I’d been spending a lot more time with Eames since then because—when he wasn’t drudging up the point man problem—he was simple company. There were no questions about boundaries between us, there were no stirring feelings that made me want to punch myself whenever he came near. He could just make fun of me and I would do the same back and that was that. No fear of accidentally making physical contact with him. No need to keep a set distance between us.  
  
It was impossible that the others didn’t notice as well but everyone except for Eames had the decency not to mention anything. Nor should they have: it wasn’t there matter to deal with. Not that I wanted it to be mine, but it was and that was that.  
  
“You two are worse than a bloody reality show, I hope you know that.” He said as a final remark of sorts, patting me on the back. Inside he dropped the subject entirely and started to remark on Dom’s cooking.  
  
It smelled absolutely wonderful; so good in fact that I had to stop by the kitchen on my way upstairs to see what it was he was making. It was some sort of pasta dish with lots of meat and a red sauce and some magical blend of herbs. I bordered on asking him where on earth he learned to make it when I finally made it back downstairs, but choked the words back out of fear the person who taught him was Mal. He didn’t need that sort of thing brought up any more than I needed Eames pointing out how Arthur sat as far away from me as possible at the table.  
  
But it was easy to pretend in small doses. Easy to act in increments. Dom came around and served us all up a bit of the dinner, a dishcloth draped over one shoulder and a content look on his face. There was salad and garlic bread and wine that was passed around as well, an irregular feast but a welcome one all the same.  
  
“This is _fantastic_ , Dom.” I praised, digging in. There was a general consensus and he thanked us as Debussy drifted in the background. Everyone was making small talk and I listened to them all while running over the architecture plans in the back of my mind. The part of me that was always tuned into metal reacted before the rest of me had a chance to decide. The point man had dropped his fork but I held it up before it fell to the floor, keeping it there as he managed a word of thanks and reclaimed it.  
  
For some reason it had caught everyone’s attention, puncturing the murmur of conversation for a few minutes. Dom recovered from it quickly, though, and pressed on with Eames and their discussion of the job we were going to take in a few weeks. The sub-security was minimal on this mark which was a nice change for me—at least it meant no goddam landslides—and the information we were looking to find would be fairly straight-forward.  
  
I didn’t know what I felt when I sensed (and saw) the osmium watch still sitting on the point-man’s wrist. Most times it was hidden by his sleeves, peeking out only now and again, but with the denseness of it I could feel it always. I had given back his cleaned up jacket long ago, along with a replacement tie for the one I’d destroyed all those weeks ago. Back when all that mattered was whether or not we were going to get shot at. When I’d given the things back to him it felt like some stupid break-up where everyone was stuck returning all the things that had once been shared. Only, we were never together and the things were only borrowed. I had to remember: no matter what the forger said a kiss was not a confession. _A kiss was not a confession_.  
  
It was easy to play happy family now, to discuss tactics for the upcoming job and battle plans and celebration plans and all sorts of other plans. It was simple to venture into plain territory like this; well-traveled territory. We brought up any concerns thus far in the initial stages and had the problems conquered by Dom. We talked things that always made sense like impersonating people and researching people and warping metal and extracting ideas and concocting complex formulas. Comfortable territory.  
  
There was absolutely no denying how wonderful of an evening it shaped up to be, all things considered. When the dishes were in the machine and the leftovers were put away and everything was tidied up I retired to my room (considering how late it was) but not without thinking about how much of a family these people were becoming to me. How much I cared about them, and it was not at all easy to accept. Because I knew it would only get worse from here: I would care more and more every day until the contract expired and I went back to Stephen and my old hotel suite-turned-home and restarted the process all over again.  
  
As I lay awake in my bed I thought about how the right thing to do was plain: I needed to distance myself from them. Remind myself these were just co-workers, no different than the thousands of others I’d worked with in the past. I was being paid to do a job and that was where I needed to draw the line. It would make parting a lot more sweet and a lot less sorrow. It would make everything a hell of a lot easier.  
  
But I didn’t want easy. I didn’t want the right thing. The ache in my chest would not be cured by a closed door and an ended contract. Even as I got out of bed and pulled on the silk robe, I knew some part of me would regret this in the future. But if I was to have grief later, better to minimize it now. My feet brushed against the carpet as I crept silently out of my room and down the hallway to the only other door.  
  
My knuckles brushed against the surface in two gentle knocks, stomach betraying all my attempts at courage. After a few moments of silence I crossed my arms and started to doubt myself completely. This was a stupid idea, a very very bad idea. I was nearly ready to go right back to my room and lock the door when the doorknob turned and the point man faced me.  
  
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked, resisting the urge to chew on my cheek as he nodded. I slipped past him into the room, listening as he closed the door and followed after me. I leaned against the wall that faced the windows and tried to force the words out of me.  
  
“Is everything alright?” He asked after a moment, clearly just as apprehensive about being this close as I was. The bed was still made which meant that I hadn’t woken him, but he was standing in front of me in nothing but sweatpants and a wife-beater.  
  
“Do you care about me, Arthur?” I asked in a quiet voice, watching as he frowned. The question almost seemed to offend him, but it took him a few moments to finally answer.  
  
“Of course I do.” He had a way of talking sometimes where he barely moved his lips and his voice was just above a mumble; it somehow drew me in and the sincerity of it pulled the words out of me.  
  
“Then how come you’ll only kiss me when you’re drunk?” I blurted out, clenching my teeth immediately after as if the action would somehow bring back the question. He was caught completely off guard by it and just stared at me, unaware of how to react. Speechless for the first time. Some part of me—no doubt the warper, the impulsive side—understood that it was now or never. If I waited a moment longer I would take his silence as a rejection and I would never bring it up again; so I untied the belt on my robe and let it fall to the ground. “Do you _want_ me?”  
  
If he’d been still before he was frozen now, eyes flickering over me once before quickly meeting mine again. He swallowed hard but it looked like he was holding his breath, waiting for something. What was it? After what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds he exhaled in one long breath, the word leaving his tongue on a whirlwind as he came over to me.  
  
“ _Yes._ ”  
  
He closed the distance so quickly you’d never have known it existed, pulling me against him and crashing his lips onto mine. I didn’t hesitate to lock my hands at the back of his neck, struggling to keep him as close as physically possible. My heart was hammering against my chest as he pushed me against the wall, one hand trailing down my body and sitting on my waist.  
  
I didn’t wait for an invitation to pull his shirt off, throwing it away and running my hands down his chest. His fingers worked at the hooks of my bra, making quick work of it before returning to me. All the gentleness he usually had was gone as he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. He pulled back for a moment and looked at me, searching for some sort of sign. I leaned forward as best as I could and kissed him again to give the only confirmation I could.  
  
It only took seconds for the rest of our clothing to meet the ground, and just as long for one of my legs to wrap around his waist and our hips to meet. I took in a sharp breath and his lips were on mine again, moving with just as much ferocity as the rest of him. His hands pinned mine to the wall, teeth gently biting at my lip as he pulled away. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he lifted me up and brought me over to the bed.  
  
When my back hit the mattress he climbed on top of me, lowering his lips to mine before trailing them down my neck, my collarbones, my chest. He pulled me up on top of him, locking one arm around me and tangling a hand in my hair as he began to move. My whole body ached for him, this impossible longing that burned within me. I tried to keep kissing him, no part of me wanting to be apart, but the faster he moved the shallower my breaths became and kissing just took too much air.  
  
He wrapped my hair around his hand and pulled, hot breath rolling against my neck in frequent intervals. I tried to stifle the sound coming out of me but his free hand travelled all over my body and all the strength in the world couldn’t shut me up. My nails bit into the back of his neck and he brought my lips back to his, muted moans escaping him and flowing into me.  
  
When I couldn’t take anymore I cried out, holding onto him tightly. He rocked forward a few more times until I fell backwards, bringing him with me. He propped himself up on his elbows as we struggled to recover, my arms still wrapped around his neck as he kissed me. We stayed like that until our heart rates no longer called out for rest and he laid down beside me. I forced the light switch off and turned to him, curling up against him as he wrapped an arm around my body. I wanted to punch my past self for putting this off at all, because as I lay there wrapped up in him I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be. In his arms, in this house, with this man and these people, all of it, the only thing that had felt right in my entire life.  
  
By the time I opened my eyes again it was morning and the sun was a pleasant thing to feel on my skin; but more so was the gentle motion of the point man’s fingertips as he ran them all over my side. It was this dazed trail from my neck to my shoulder down my arm to my wrist and all the wait to the tip of my fingers before going all the way back up. When the corners of my mouth turned into a smile he stopped, caught in the act, and I let my eyes open.  
  
He looked calmer than I’d ever seen him before and there was a smile of his own plastered on his face. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his neck, rolling away to stretch and check the time. He let his hand brush over me as I moved and I welcomed the gesture, not wanting him to ever stop touching me, holding me, kissing me. It was almost disarming and I was almost scared but as the clock turned from 9:31 to 9:32 he pulled me back to him and the world was a perfect place to be.  
  
We stayed like that in the quiet for a while, doing nothing more than memorizing every inch of each other, but my stomach began to grumble and my desire to eat was chiselling away at my desire to stay there until I died. With a groan I pushed myself up and found my robe, covering up and promising to return with a coffee.  
  
Downstairs the others were already awake and all congregated in the kitchen eating their breakfast. I mumbled a good morning and got two mugs out of the cupboard, filling them with coffee and searching for the cream and sugar.  
  
“Sleep well?” Eames asked with a tone that suggested something other than an honest question. I raised an eyebrow at him as I spooned in the sugar before understanding what he was alluding to. I rolled my eyes, half-tempted to hit him, and just shook my head. Dom was making a determined effort to stay out of the conversation entirely but the corners of Yusuf’s mouth were curling up into a suppressed smile. I grabbed the coffee and started to walk away, but of course the forger needed to get the last word. “It’s about bloody time!”  
  
I made it back to the safety of Arthur’s room and locked the door behind me, finding him out on the balcony clothed once more and looking out. I handed him the mug and he thanked me, pulling me against him.  
  
“Well the good news is there’s no need for an awkward announcement.” I said sarcastically, taking a gulp of the coffee. The point man just smiled and held me closer, pressing his lips to my forehead.


	7. Stolen

“It’s kind of nice not having a shower of bullets following us down here.” I mused as we made our way down the stairs of the old hotel. The place had been deserted for nearly a decade and was just the style of hideout that Dom usually preferred. We were three flights away from the main floor when I felt a sharp pain in my side. I stopped for a minute, pressing my hand against the spot to try and stop the pain. It came away with a bit of blood and my heart began to race. I looked up at the others and then through the window at the building we needed to get to. Whatever the problem was, I could hold off for a little while longer.  
  
“You okay?” Arthur asked, pausing when he noticed I wasn’t behind him. I quickly nodded, hiding my hand as I followed after him. He hesitated for a moment before pushing on and I wiped the wetness off on my jeans.  
  
“Alright,” Dom began as we congregated around the decrepit front desk. The wind blew in through all the open doorways, the doors having long since fallen off their hinges. We had a direct view of the building across the street—the mark’s summer home—but unfortunately minimal population to hide ourselves in. “I this should be quick, but let’s not underestimate the complexity of the job. We have to remember this is a human mind we’re dealing with. We’ll move out in five minutes, enter from our specified places, and go from there.”  
  
Everyone nodded and gravitated to different doors or windows to keep a look out. I was watching the mark pull into the driveway when I felt another pain, wincing as I surveyed the damage. Covertly I lifted up my shirt and saw two wounds that looked like I’d been sliced, which wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. I kept quiet for a bit but eventually waved Dom over.  
  
“What is it?” He asked, expecting to find some sort of threat outside. I didn’t want to say anything out loud so I showed him the marks. He froze when seeing them, looking up at me with wide eyes. “When did that happen?”  
  
“The first one came while we were on the third floor. I—I don’t know what to do. Does this mean someone found us on the first level?”  
  
“It could be worse than that.” He said quietly, looking down at the ground as he started to think. I regretted telling him almost immediately, knowing that this would probably mean we had to cut the job short. He would want to wake up to see what had happened and we would lose the mark. After a few minutes of him silently standing there he nodded and walked away. “Arthur, Yusuf, I’m sending you back to the surface.”  
  
“What? Why?” Yusuf asked, turning from his post to look at Dom with confusion.  
  
“Dom,” I began, shaking my head. “You don’t need to—”  
  
“Something’s happened.” The extractor explained, motioning to me. “It looks like Saria’s been stabbed on the level above. Eames, I need you to stay here and help me finish the job, you two are going to make sure everything is alright up top.”  
  
“Dom, what if it’s someone in reality?” Arthur said seriously, taking quick steps over to us. “Someone could have found us all, we should cut this short. Now.”  
  
“If someone was stabbing me in real life I would have woken up, Arthur.” I dismissed, shaking my head.  
  
“Not exactly.” Yusuf said as he wandered over. “You react differently to some of the sedatives, I thought you knew. I figured it was the whole warping thing.”  
  
“So someone’s stabbing her to death and we’re going to _finish the job?_ ” Arthur hissed, staring down Dom and even taking a few steps towards him. I tried to calm them all down, promising I’d be fine to go on (despite the fear creeping into my system). They turned to face me, all planning to deliver whatever speech they had planned, but their words fell short. Four pairs of eyes went wide and I felt their guns start to rise as a pain streaked through my chest.  
  
I was frozen even as their bullets whizzed past me, even as a body thudded onto the floor behind me. All I could focus on was the tingling sensation of numbness that was slowing giving way to pain. There was a knife—no, not a knife. Knives were made of metal, and I would have felt it. This was shimmering glass—sticking out of my chest, dripping ruby red. I felt my legs give out and it didn’t matter that the point man was there to catch me. I was stuck in this swirling sensation of being pulled apart, his roaring voice the backdrop to my gurgles as I coughed up my own blood. The last thing I remember seeing was the frantic look on his face before the world went black.  
  
When I woke up I almost forgot what had happened in the dream, but as soon as I opened my eyes hands were on me, holding me down as I regained my strength. I started to thrash, ignoring completely the pain in my abdomen as I fought against their grip. Someone was screaming orders and I immediately felt around for the nearest metal, sending the industrial lighting up above us crashing down at them. For a moment I was free and I rolled off the chair, watching as the others were beginning to stir. I meant to call out to them but there was a hard crack against the back of my head and I was out again.  
  


* * *

My head was throbbing when I finally woke up, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. The first thing I noticed were the lights: bright and blinding and coming from all over. I was being drowned in artificial illumination. Next was the pain in my head, then the pain in my abdomen where fresh stitches held me together, and lastly the plastic zip ties binding me at the wrist and ankle to the chair I was sitting in.  
  
Obviously my first instinct—despite my lack of complete coherence—was to get out. I could feel metal around this old building I had been brought to, but I could not feel any osmium. The others weren’t brought here, they were spared. Always a bright side. I started to warp the metal from the chair but it was pulled back to its original state and someone cleared their throat from the corner of the room.  
  
“I’d save my strength if I were you.” I watched as a man walked across the room to the doorway and made some sort of motion to people I couldn’t see. He returned to his chair and for a moment it was quiet but then footsteps began to echo down the hallway. Two men came in from the hallway, keeping their eyes averted from mine as they hooked me up to a PASIV machine. I tried to force the needles out by another force was keeping them in. I eyed the man in the corner and he just nodded to me, confirming the suspicion in my mind. The other men retreated to either side of the room and a fourth man came in.  
  
“Good, you’re awake.” He said distantly, as if there were more important things on his mind than having a person hostage. The man looked old, probably late sixties. He still had hair but it was all white, pushed back and thick. The way he walked, though, showed he still had strength left in him. This wasn’t what worried me, though. What worried me was the fact that I’d never seen him or any of the other men before, couldn’t recall his face from any company I’d ever worked for or against. If there was something he wanted from me there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to deliver.  
  
“Why am I here?” I asked cautiously, wanting to edge away from the man as he pulled up a chair in front of me but being unable to do so. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, studying me for a long time before speaking.  
  
“First off, you should know that my friend over there is a warper too so don’t try and fancy tricks. You are here because I require your assistance with…piecing together a puzzle.”  
  
“Is that what they’re calling kidnapping now-a-days?” The comment left my mouth before my brain had a chance to check it and I immediately clenched my teeth shut, knowing that it would be best not to do that again. The man smirked at me and leaned back in the chair.  
  
“It doesn’t really matter to me when you choose to co-operate. I’ve got plenty of time and a host of men at my disposal that are going to make you talk one way or another. I want you to keep that in mind.” He said seriously, staring me dead in the eye. Something was twinkling in his hand, reflecting the light onto his face in a golden glow. I didn’t want to break the eye contact but the light kept flashing into my eyes until I looked down at it, and then I _really_ wished I hadn’t.  
  
He was holding my totem. That small golden compass that had been keeping my mind straight for over half a decade was being flipped over and over in his big hands. I looked sideways at the PASIV machine and realized that things were much worse than I thought. There was no way for me to tell if I was sleeping right now or not: which meant I couldn’t be careless with how they treated me. I couldn’t make it through whatever they had planned with the knowledge that I would wake up unscathed. But most of all, I couldn’t risk finding a way to kill myself in case this was reality. Just like that, just from seeing the little bit of metal, this man had instilled a fear in me that I did not frequently subject myself to.  
  
“What do you want from me?” I asked quietly, praying that it would be a request that I could fulfill. He smiled and leaned forward again, taking his time to speak.  
  
“I’m going to be very clear, but this is the only thing I will be asking. What I want to know will not change and cannot be bargained with. Your options are speak or die. Do you understand?” He asked, fingertips meeting together as he stared at me. I quickly nodded. “I want to know the exact idea that you planted in my godson Robert Fischer’s head when your team was hired by Saito.”  
  
My whole body seemed to sink. So this was it. This was how I died. Alone in some deserted factory with no use to make of my supernatural abilities and no bargaining chip to get me out. Well, there was a bargaining chip—selling the rest of the team out in exchange for my life—but I would much rather die. When Dom had told me about the job, he had definitely skimmed over the details (like the exact wording used to incept Fischer along with the name of Fischer and about a million other things). All I knew was that they had performed the job: this man thought I was part of what happened. And how could I possibly convince him otherwise? He’d think I was just lying. He took my silence in with a nod and got up, motioning to one of the men and walking out of the room.  
  
“Please listen to me just for a moment.” I begged of the man as he moved towards the machine. My heart was racing, mind running to try and think of something to get me out of this. “Please, you’ve got the wrong girl. I didn’t start working with them until a few months ago, I work for a man named Stephen Lowrey, you can contact him and he’ll vouch for me.”  
  
“I’m sorry…” The man whispered quietly, pressing the button that started the release of the chemical. He took a white pill from a container and hesitated for a moment before putting it in my mouth and holding my jaws and nose shut so I was forced to swallow it.  
  
“I don’t…I….” The argument was lost on me as I submitted to the machine. When I woke I was in the same room and part of me wondered if there had been a malfunction. But the bigger part of me knew this was just another part of the game to keep me guessing as to what was real and what was a dream. “I don’t know anything, I don’t…I don’t know Robert Fischer or what they did to him…”  
  
“I’d like to be quick about this dollface, so let’s just get out what the big man wants to hear so we can all go home.” The warper said as he paced around the edge of the room. I nearly cried. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be, nor at all. I was supposed to finish a low-key job and afterwards Arthur was supposed to take me to see a movie or go for a walk in the woods or give up on being social and spend all day in bed. Eames would make fun of us and Yusuf would join in and Dom would calm the remarks like the father figure he was. We would enjoy our time off for a little and find another job and repeat the cycle.  
  
But maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe this was the universe punishing me for getting out of jail free. I killed someone, murdered a human being. It didn’t really matter who he was or what he was doing, the fact was he was dead because of me. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to have found happiness and this was my payback for it.  
  
“I’m telling you I don’t know the answer he’s looking for. If I did I would have told you right away.”  
  
“Pity.” He sighed, floating a series of tiny metal balls in the air. They hovered all over my skin and pressed against me gently. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth as the pressure turned to piercing. Each orb turned into a needle, puncturing my skin, before curling at the ends. A hundred fishhooks lodged into my flesh. He took a breath in and the metal began to pull at me, ripping little holes in me every place they were. I whimpered as red began to stain my clothes.  
  
When the hooks finally ripped through all of my skin I passed out or woke up or was put under again, and the process truly began. Robert Fischer’s godfather clearly had experience in torture, or at least knew someone who did. He managed to think of absolutely everything that could have saved me in the slightest. No hope of warping, no hope of escaping, no hope at all. It was bad enough to have the physical strain but the mental aspect was where this man soared.  
  
There were no windows in sight, no shadows in the hallway or blocks of light cascading in from the outside world to give me any notion of what the time might be. Forget the time—I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. Couldn’t keep track of how long or little I may have been there. No cell to return to at the end of the session where I might have scratched little tally marks to measure my stay. The only movement I had was once now and again to use the bathroom, but even then I was heavily drugged and the warper wasn’t far behind.  
  
What was worse, though, was not knowing what my reality was. They kept putting me under or waking me up or something on a frequent basis. Sometimes they would do a series one right after another just to keep me guessing, and boy was it working wonders. The only thing I didn’t understand was the pill they gave me. It wasn’t on any sort of schedule. It came at random intervals and had no taste but made me feel horrible. That combined with my body trying to keep up with all the drugs and chemicals, and even if I wanted to try and overpower the other warper there would be no hope. I was just too weak.  
  
The warper had some new way to hurt me each time, ant not always with metal. It was so simple to hurt the body; it was so easily fractured. Sometimes he used tools, sometimes his bare hands. He definitely had an affinity for the hammer, though. He liked the way it sounded when it broke my bones. I remember him pulling out my nails one by one but then they were there again so that had been a dream. Without a mirror it was hard to keep track of what bruises and broken bones were real and what weren’t. As he so liked to remind me, _pain is in the mind._  
  
It didn’t seem to matter that my answer was unwavering. It didn’t seem to matter that I spat out the truth through my sobs and bloodied mouth. The old man wanted an answer and he would break me until he got it. He hadn’t come back to see me since the first day, but when my head lolled up it was his face waiting for me in the chair. He frowned, sighing at the sight of me and shaking his head.  
  
“You know I really hoped we’d be past all this. You’ve had a month to think and still you hang onto these lies.”  
  
“A…A _month_?” I breathed, eyes watering at the thought.  
  
“I don’t know how you’re taking it. If you weren’t holding back what I wanted to know I’d almost be impressed.”  
  
“ _Please._ I wasn’t with them for that job. I want to help you…but I can’t.”  
  
“After all the things the warper has done to you—beating you, hurting you, making you bleed, taking away your powers—you’re still not going to give it up are you?”  
  
“Taking my— _what?_ ” The heart in me that had grown slow suddenly spurred back to life. The man nodded, looking on at me like a king looks at a beggar. “No, you…It’s impossible.”  
  
“What do you think the pills were for?” He asked as if the answer had been obvious. I shook my head, refusing to believe it. Immediately I tried to warp the metal of his chair but couldn’t move it.  
  
“You’re lying. He’s stopping me, he’s always been stopping me.” I insisted, shaking my head. The man just raised his eyebrows at me.  
  
“He hasn’t been stopping you since the first day.” He said calmly. “I warned you that things would not be nice. I told you what I wanted plain and simple. There’s a reason why your line of work is illegal.”  
I wished that my life was a length of rope. A ball. Any object at all. I wished that I was holding my life in my hands, so that at that moment I could let it go. The physical damage, the emotional strain, the mental destruction; none of it compared to losing my powers. None of it. They would kill me; and now I wanted to die. At least when the moment came there wouldn’t be any satisfaction on their part. They would see me go in peace.  
  
“When we’re done with you I think we’ll send you back to the others in pieces. It’ll make a bigger statement—what do you think?” The man asked, a smile creeping onto his face. I shook until I vomited and he stepped back in disgust. One of the men worked quickly to clean it up. With a sigh the old man looked at me. “I think we can give her a few more weeks. Try popping that shoulder out, make her scream.”  
  
The warper walked over to me and gripped my arm with his gloved hands. He cut the zip tie holding my left wrist and carefully pulled me into position. I tried to fight against him but he was too strong. I tried desperately to warp something, _anything_ , but it was no use. I was helpless. The warper pulled my arm back more and more, slowly easing it into greater degrees of pain.  
  
“Uncle Peter?” The voice cut through my cries and the warper stopped, looking up just like everyone else. A thin man with dark hair and bright blue eyes was standing in the doorway frozen, eyes trained on me. The old man sighed heavily and started to rub his forehead. “What the hell is going on here?”  
  
“Robert, aren’t you supposed to be in San Francisco right now?” The one called Peter asked. Robert Fischer walked closer to me, eyes full of pity and confusion and sadness.  
  
“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.” He said in a calm voice, crouching in front of me and shooing the warper away. I tried again, while he was distracted, to move something—but I couldn’t even _sense_ the metal let alone change it. The knowledge made me weep.  
  
“I’m doing this for your own good, Robert…” Peter said as his godson studied me. The words seemed to spark some anger inside him. He got up abruptly and spun, standing between me and his godfather.  
  
“How many times do I have to tell you that I broke up the company for my own reasons? You can’t go around hunting people you think were working with Dominick Cobb because you think they planted some idea in my mind!” He argued in a quiet voice, but an angry voice. He turned back to me and started to work the binds off of me. “This is over.”  
  
“We were so close with this one! The girls are always easier to break, son!”  
  
“I _said_ this is over.” Fischer insisted, facing his godfather when I was free. My wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw by the plastic but I didn’t want to touch them: the rest of me hurt too much already. “If I ever find out this is happening again…You’ll be out of the company completely. I won’t ever want to hear from you again.”  
  
“You’re making a mistake.” Peter said calmly with an air of defeat. Fischer ignored him completely and turned to me, promising he wasn’t going to hurt me.  
  
“Can you walk?” He asked. When I hesitated he looped one of my arms around his neck and helped me up, supporting me as my weak feet shuffled across the cement floor. He led me past the old man and for a moment I thought he was going to grab me back, but I made it out of the room and eventually out of the building entirely.  
  
The air was fresh and it felt beautiful against my skin, but that was the end of the pleasantries. Fischer helped me into the passenger’s seat and got my seat belt on before going around to the driver’s side. He waited until we were far from the building to even speak.  
  
“I…I can’t begin to apologize for what’s been done to you.” He said in a quiet voice. An honest voice. “My uncle he’s…he’s been convinced for a while now that someone broke into my mind and…It doesn’t matter. His intentions won’t ever be justification for his actions. I’m sorry.”  
  
I turned away from him and curled up as much as I could. He was silent after that and just kept driving, putting as much distance between us and the place as he could. Eventually he asked me if there was somewhere he could drop me off, but I had no idea where we were so instead he gave me his phone to use. I struggled to remember the phone number but quickly entered it when I did. It rang once, twice, three times. The point man picked up with the customary greeting, and for a moment I forgot how to speak. Just hearing his voice wanted to make me cry.  
  
“Arthur?” I stammered out, clutching the phone like it was my last lifeline. He was silent for a heartbeat and then all the professionalism was gone from his voice. It was replaced with worry and panic.  
  
“Saria? _Jesus_ —Where are you? Where have they taken you?”  
  
“I—I don’t know where I am.” I cried, wishing more than anything that he was beside me. Fischer cleared his throat and told me the nearest intersection. I relayed the words to Arthur. “Do you know where that is?”  
  
“We’re on our way just stay there.” He said, breaking away for just a moment to scream out Eames’ name. “Saria, are you safe?”  
  
“I d—don’t know.”  
  
“Did they _hurt_ you?” He pressed, the sound of doors opening and cars starting filling the background.  
  
“ _Yes_.” I cried, folding up against myself and willing him closer to me. He was quiet a heartbeat more.  
  
“I’m going to be there as soon as I can.” I could hear the engine roaring, that unmistakable sound of a speeding car, right up until the moment the call ended. It took me a moment to find the strength to give the phone back, but when I did my body turned away once more. Fischer never said anything else and I was thankful for it. As much as I owed him, as much as I wanted to say thank you, I just couldn’t bring myself to speak the words. Part of me still felt stuck in the chair. Part of me was worried if I talked to him too much this would all end up being a dream and I’d wake up there again.  
  
After about an hour of waiting I could hear speeding cars and I perked up in the seat. I fumbled to get the door open but Fischer came around and helped me, lifting my broken body up and letting me lean on him. Two cars pulled into the parking lot we were in and my heart was racing. I turned back to face Fischer, meeting his eyes for the first time. I forced out the words to thank him as the car door wretched open.  
  
When I saw him my heart stopped. I moved towards him as best as I could, leaving my saviour behind as the point man crossed the gap between the cars. The second his arms were around me I started to cry, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could and sobbing into his chest.  
  
“I’ve got you. It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He promised gently as the other car door slammed. I heard the cocking of a handgun and pried my face away to see Eames cross over to Fischer and point the gun to his head. I cried out as the forger pinned Fischer to the car by the throat, but watched as he hesitated because of the familiarity.  
  
“Eames don’t.” I begged, clutching onto Arthur. “He’s the reason I’m alive.”  
  
The forger stared at him for a few minutes before whispering some threat in his ear and turning back to me. Yusuf was standing beside us with a look on his face that was so unlike anything I’d ever seen. Eames tapped him on the shoulder and he went back to the second car, getting into the driver’s seat and pulling out his cell phone. Eames opened the back door of Arthur’s SUV and stood by while the point man lifted me up and carried me into the back seat. Eames climbed into the driver’s seat and began to drive away, leaving Fischer standing alone.  
  
Arthur kept me curled up against him, refusing to let me go and just letting me cry. No questions, no inspections. He just promised me that I was okay now, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me ever again. He held me close and kissed the top of my head and swore that things would be okay. And I kept crying because he didn’t know how bad it was. I kept crying because he didn’t know what they’d stolen from me.  
  
I should have calmed down in the time it took to get back to the house but even as Arthur carried me inside I was shaking. There was just too much to process, too much for my broken mind to make any sense of. He laid me down on the couch in the living room and meant to leave for whatever reason but I grabbed his hand and begged him not to go.  
  
“Eames, get her a blanket and something to drink.” He said in small voice, sitting on the edge of the couch and keeping my hand in his. The forger and the chemist returned with a blanket and a cup of something. Eames got the blanket onto me, making sure the majority of me was covered before taking a step back.  
  
“This’ll help with the pain.” Yusuf held out a mug but I pushed myself as far away from it as I could, shaking my head fervently.  
  
“P-Please don’t m-make me drink it.” I begged, looking at the mug like it was full of poison. The chemist hesitated, looking to the others for some sort of idea of what to do. Arthur just nodded to him and he put the cup down on the table. The front door slammed open and I jumped, worrying it was Fischer’s godfather back to take me again.  
  
“Is she here?” Dom asked, footsteps coming closer and closer until I could see him. He paused at the sight of me before kneeling, gently placing his hand on the side of my face. “What do we know?”  
  
“We didn’t ask anything yet.” Eames said behind the extractor. Dom nodded as if this had been the right decision. “But Robert Fischer was there when we picked her up.”  
  
“Dom?” My voice was weak when I called his attention away from Eames, but he snapped back to me immediately with patient eyes. It took a few breaths before I was finally able to ask the question. “Am…Am I still dreaming?”  
  
“This is real.” He promised, looking me straight in the eye and nodding. “You’re safe and you made it out.”  
  
When he said this I nodded, but still didn’t know if it was true. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and summoned all my strength to push myself up. Arthur warned me to take it easy but I told him I would be fine and leaned my aching back against the soft sofa. The point man moved closer so I didn’t have to reach so far to hold his hand.  
  
“Fischer didn’t take me, it was his godfather.” I got out finally. They all stayed quiet and listened while I explained what happened. I told them what the man named Peter wanted from me, and what he did when he thought I was lying. I left out the details of the torture because knowing it wouldn’t help them at all, but I told them how Fischer was the one who saved me. “And there were…these pills.”  
  
“Pills?” Arthur asked anxiously, grip tightening on my hand. I nodded and then I started to cry all over again.  
  
“They made me take them a—and before Fischer came they told me what they were for.” I stammered out, feeling weaker at the mere memory of the conversation. I couldn’t even bear to look at the others while I forced the words out. “They took away my powers. I c-can’t warp anymore.”  
  
“Is that even possible?” Yusuf asked quietly as I sobbed. Arthur pulled me into his arms as I shook, holding me tightly against him.  
  
“Dom, you don’t think that they…” Eames trailed off, leaving the end of the sentence unfinished. It didn’t take me long to figure out what he was insinuating, and when it clicked I turned to glare at him.  
  
“If this was inception I would have been able to overcome it.” I hissed, suddenly furious. “I felt myself get weaker every single day for the month they were drugging me.”  
  
“Saria…”Dom began, causing my angry gaze to fall on him. He hesitated, looking up at Arthur for a moment. The point man sighed and held me closer. “You’ve only been gone for nine days.”


	8. Block

It had been three weeks since Robert Fischer led me to that parking lot. Three weeks and I still hadn’t managed to bounce back. Wasn’t that supposed to be what happened? I’d be sad for a while but I’d get over it? The bruises were fading, I had expected my feelings to as well. But I felt lost, like a hopeless wanderer locked up in the house. I had no motivation to go out anywhere: sometimes it was hard enough just to get out of bed.  
  
Which, logically, didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t about the physical harm—I’d been beaten up before, even if it wasn’t to the same extent—it was what they took from me. But it wasn’t some power I’d been born with, it wasn’t a constant force that had been there my whole life. I’d only known the skill for a few years. But still, I couldn’t for the life of me remember how I had survived without it. It wasn’t as if the world was made of metal, but somehow being able to sense the majority of my surroundings made me feel like I was seeing so much more. Now, I felt blind. Seeing only the tip of the iceberg, not the whole ice-form itself.  
  
Had I really based that much of my self-worth and identity on something like warping metal? It felt like an entire piece of me was missing. The only person I felt more pity for than myself was Arthur. He was being so much better to me than I deserved. I kept telling him that I was trying to get better, trying to force myself out of the rut I was in, but it just wasn’t working. He would tell me there was nothing wrong with what I was feeling, that I was entitled to it.  
  
It took me a good part of the first four days to stop waking up in a panic. I slept a lot at the beginning, and whenever I woke my body (and mind for that matter) completely forgot that I wasn’t still in that chair. But Arthur would be there to calm me with kisses and reassure me of what was reality. There were very few times when I wasn’t physically touching him somehow, using his body as an anchor to confirm where I was. Confirm that I was safe. It was like I needed his existence to bridge the gap between what warpers were used to seeing/feeling and what normal people were used to.  
  
I could see my childhood house up ahead as we walked down the sidewalk. He had his arm wrapped around my shoulders and I was leaning against him, focusing on the clear sky and gentle breeze and the smell of the flowers. Trying to recall all the things I’d once found beautiful. It was strange—almost sad, even—that the house that plagued me with such horrible memories was in a place so beautiful.  
  
When we got to the door I stopped, needing to take a moment before actually going in. I turned and leaned forward to kiss him but he moved at the last minute so I got his cheek instead. He pushed on to open the door as if it was nothing so I put it out of my mind and followed him inside. The house looked just like it had the day I left, which made me feel like we were entering a crypt. The blanket was lying on the floor as if my dad had just gotten up to go get a beer from the fridge. The television was on, blurting out some sports cast.  
  
The whole place had the familiar smell of my house. I followed Arthur upstairs to my bedroom, shocked to see that my dad hadn’t changed a thing. All the posters from my teenage addiction to The Smiths plastered the walls, my perfume bottles sat in a bunch on the dresser, and some clothes were even piled on floor. I wandered over to the corner of my room where the desk was, kneeling on the floor and touching my fingertips to the dusty carpet. Pushing it back, I counted three floorboards away from the wall to find the secret hiding spot I had used in my childhood. With my fingertips I started to pry the board away, but stopped short. Turning to Arthur I watched him carefully, narrowing my eyes.  
  
“Something isn’t right here…” I said anxiously, growing weary of the pit in my stomach. It only took a few breaths for the world to disappear. When I woke up I was lying in my bed. My heart leapt into my throat at the realization and I screamed out for Arthur. He rushed into the room, a frantic look on his face as I started to shake. “Why would you bring me back there?”  
  
“Bring you back where?” He asked calmly, sitting beside me as I studied my wrist. The vein was standing out just enough to confirm my fears. I looked up at him as my eyes started to water.  
“My—My house, my old house; what were you trying to find?” I demanded, feeling more and more crazy every second he looked genuinely confused. He told me he didn’t know what I was talking about and I believed him. “But I dreamt that you…Oh my god…”  
  
When the truth dawned on me I didn’t know what I felt more—fury or betrayal. Ripping the covers off, I pushed past the point man and jogged down the stairs. The living and dining room were empty but I found him in the sunroom with Dom. Bursting through the doors, they both looked up at me with wide eyes as I strode up to the forger. The perfect forger, the great impressionist.  
  
“What part of you thought that would be okay?” I roared, shaking no longer from fear but from anger. Eames and Dom slowly got to their feet as I continued to yell. “You know you really had me going there. You really did. But the one difference is Arthur would _never_ do that to me. I don’t _care_ if you think I was incepted, that doesn’t give you the right to go into my mind and try and fix it by yourself!”  
  
“I was just trying to—” He started to defend himself but my hand wound back and slapped him hard across the face. Arthur moved forward and stood between us after the action, trying to get me to calm down as my eyes watered.  
  
“Eames, what did you do?” Dom asked calmly as I shook.  
  
“He put me into a dream and pretended to be Arthur so he could look for his implanted idea, that’s what.” I hissed, taking a few steps back. “But I bet you weren’t counting on the fact that I haven’t had a dream without the PASIV for five years, huh? Bet that spoiled your little…”  
  
And suddenly I was calm. Looking at Eames, I wondered how I could have been so stupid. _So stupid_. Dom and Arthur and Yusuf, all of them. I swallowed hard and took a step back from Arthur, freeing myself from his grip. The memory of the past weeks nearly made me vomit. Of course this was totally uncharacteristic of Eames: because it wasn’t Eames at all. Him and the others, nothing more than shades. Well-done forgeries of the real people.  
  
“Saria?” Arthur called out as I edged further and further from the three of them.  
  
“I just…I need to be alone.” Turning from them quickly, I practically ran back up to my room. I gave myself a few moments to freak out before going into the adjoining room and rummaging through the point man’s things until I found it. Locking all the doors that could lead to my room, I opened the balcony doors and tried to steady myself enough to go through with it.  
  
Of course Peter Browning still had me captive. Of course I hadn’t escaped that easily. His godson just _happened_ to show up and rescue me? What were the odds of that happening? None. No, I was still stuck to that chair. But that meant that when I woke up I might still have my powers. If that was the case I would use every bit of strength I had to fight against the other warper and set him free. Or maybe I could bribe one of the technicians with promise of double the money he was being paid to knock the warper out, just for a moment. Yes, this plan would work.  
  
“Saria are you okay in there?” the man who would be Arthur, his voice was muffled through the door as he knocked. I started to cry again, realizing that the real point man wouldn’t be there when I woke up. He wouldn’t be there to hold me. How long would it be before I saw him for real? Would I even ever see him again?  
  
“Go away.” I yelled, finding the strength to cock the gun. He started knocking more as I took deep breaths and turned the gun to my head. It was strange how hard it was to actually press the trigger. I had almost found the strength when the door burst open and the three men walked in. I pushed the gun against my temple and stumbled away from them. “Stay back!”  
  
“Don’t do this Saria.” Arthur said, voice shaking. How were they all so good? I started to cry even more, my eyes blurring up with the tears.  
  
“I don’t know who you’re working for but you all deserve a fucking raise.” I spat out, trying to stop the way my lungs were overworking. “I would have believed it forever but Eames wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t. So here’s my answer: I don’t _know_ anything about your stupid fucking inception job. I don’t know Robert Fischer or what happened to him. I do know that I’m going to pull this trigger and when I wake up you can either kill me or set me free.”  
  
“This isn’t a dream, this is real life.” Cobb promised, voice gentle like a lullaby. He took a step closer and I took a step back. “Please don’t make this mistake.”  
  
“And even if I _did_ know what the hell you want me to tell you, I wouldn’t. You could torture me all you want but I would never sell them out. So let’s just do ourselves all a favour and use real bullets when I wake up.”  
  
“I’m begging you, please don’t do this.” Arthur said, arms trembling slightly. A nice touch. “Please don’t leave me.”  
  
“What you fuckers do for money…” I breathed, straightening up and closing my eyes. Gathering all the courage and strength that I had, I pulled the trigger.  
  
I felt the pressure of the air brush against my temple, pushing bits of hair out of the way. Keeping my eyes shut I waited for the impact, holding my breath and praying that this would all be over soon. But when I heard the intake of breath and the sighs of relief and the sound of footsteps I opened my eyes again. The bullet was hovering mid-air in front of my head, and behind it was a familiar face.  
  
“Staci?” I called out in a weak voice. She was holding her palm up at me as the bullet continued to dance, but she eventually turned it into dust and edged closer. Was this another forgery? Was she just another impression?  
  
“What are you doing, baby girl?” She asked quietly, coming closer and closer. The gun was still heavy in my hand and I was debating whether or not to try again but the thing dismantled in my hand and the pieces fell to the floor. She was right in front of me when she stopped. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”  
“You’re—You’re not real…Just a forger….”  
  
“You know how to beat this, girl. Ask me something only I would know.” She said calmly, eyes sad. I struggled for a moment, looking back at the others while I racked my brain.  
  
“W-What was the first thing I said when you brought me to Stephen?”  
  
“You asked me if you were being sold into prostitution. And I told you it was not too far off.” She joked, cracking a smile but letting a tear slide down her face all the same. There was no way any forger could have known that, no way at all. The sudden realization of what I had almost done was enough to cripple me.  
  
“What’s happening to me?” I whimpered, falling into her arms. She held me tightly and hushed me, promising she was going to help me. The others left us alone at her command and she cradled me for a while, letting me cry. She explained that Dom had called her a few days ago asking for her help. She was going to take me to someone who would try and help me. When I calmed down enough to accept I made sure to thank her as many times as I could before she shut me up.  
  
She helped me pack a bag and walked with me downstairs to the front of the house. Dom was waiting there with a sad smile on his face. Staci left us to talk and went outside to the car she had waiting for us. I turned to the extractor, sliding my arms around me and leaning against the doorway.  
  
“I guess this leave of absence sort of nullifies the contract, then.” I said quietly, looking at my shoes.  
  
“I’m more worried about you getting better than keeping to a bunch of legal jargon. You don’t need to worry about the money, it’ll be waiting when you get back.” He promised, reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder.  
  
“I don’t care about the money, I care about disappointing you.” I blurted out. He frowned at the words and pulled me into a hug.  
  
“You couldn’t if you tried.”  
  
When I finally pried myself away I found Eames waiting on the steps. Arthur was busy talking to Staci so I leaned on the pillar beside the forger. He was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat and turned to me.  
  
“I…I shouldn’t have done what I did.” He managed to say. “It wasn’t fair to you. Not at all.”  
  
“You were just trying to help.” I acknowledged, nodding. He managed a weak smile and so did I. “Sorry about slapping you.”  
  
“You would’ve gotten around to it eventually.” He joked, but soon he was taken over by a serious demeanour. “Get better, yeah?”  
  
I nodded, hugging him for as long as I dared before turning away. Arthur was waiting for me by the car and I wandered over to him, sighing. He pulled me over to him and kissed me, not protesting as I held him against me longer. When he pulled away it was only to put his arms around me. I apologized quietly and he told me not to.  
  
“I should never have let them take you.” He said in a small voice. I tried to tell him how stupid a thing to say that was but he ignored me and just held on tighter.  
  
“I wish you could come with me.” I admitted. He agreed but began to pull away. I didn’t want to let go, because I knew as soon as I got into that car I would be away from him yet again. When we pulled away he took my hand and put something small in it, closing my fingers over it. My eyebrows furrowed as I opened my palm, a small red die inside. “You—You can’t give me this.”  
  
“You need it more than I do.” He promised.  
  
“Arthur this is your _totem_. You can’t just—”  
  
“I can, and I will.” He said with gentle authority. He leaned in close and told me that, in real life, it would always land on the number four. I would know I was dreaming if it landed on any other number. He kissed me again, deeper this time. “You’ll make it through this, okay?”  
  
“Okay.” I said, not believing it as much as he did. He helped me into the car, pausing at the door while I got my seat belt on. He nodded to Staci and was just about to close it, but stopped at the last minute.  
  
“I love you.” His words made my heart skip a beat, and I was frozen for a minute before I remembered the words to respond with.  
  
“I love you too.” He closed the door and Staci started to drive off. I saw Yusuf pulling in at the other end of the driveway, eyeing our car as he kept driving. I took the die from my hand and tossed it onto the dashboard, taking comfort in the four white circles.  
  


* * *

  
It was a lot colder out here than I was used to, but wasn’t that the Canadian stereotype? Staci had brought me up to some uninhabited part of Newfoundland. Out here, it was hard to tell where the property ended and the rest of nature began. There was a gravel road that led from the main road to the small house up ahead. The final destination.  
  
The house looked like more of a cabin than a full time home, but it backed onto a tremendous amount of land and to the east there was a lake. The whole drive up I’d done little more than rolling the die onto the dashboard over and over, convincing myself that this was in fact reality. There would no doubt always be some uncertainty—for the rest of my life—that I was living in a dream. That I was still tied down in some abandoned warehouse. But I promised to make the most of what I could and that involved committing to some sort of reality.  
  
Staci led me to the doorstep and knocked. A woman of about sixty opened the door and smiled at us. She was dressed in a thick long sleeve shirt with a big scarf wrapped loosely around her neck a few times. Her skirt was long and green, but the bottom was frayed and thick stockings were peeking out. She was wearing clunky boots that were caked in mud and grass, in extreme juxtaposition with the gold rings and earrings. The majority of her hair was tucked up into a scarf but stray bits peeked out here and there. Wrinkles were starting to set in her face but they suited her, made her look kind.  
  
“Saria, this is my friend Zora.” The woman took my hand in both of hers and held it there for a while, nodding, before turning to Staci.  
  
“I’ll call you when she’s finished.” Zora said and turned away, walking inside her home. Staci took a minute to hug me, promising me that no matter what this would help. After that she was gone. As much as I wanted to stay there and watch until the car disappeared down the empty road, Zora was beckoning me over to her. I wandered inside dragging my suitcase behind me.  
  
The walls and tables were covered with pictures and trinkets and sketches. There were a dozen half-finished watercolours around the place (I was fairly certain that a number of them were being done with old tea) and multi-coloured fabrics hung uselessly from beams here and there. In a number of different corners some sort of incense was burning and it made the place feel like a gypsy’s hut.  
  
“Take a seat, lovey.” She said passively, walking into the kitchen as I looked around the living room. I set my suitcase against a wall and sat down on the chair beside the window. After a few minutes she returned and sat across from me, handing me a warm mug of something. “So, as I understand it, you’re suffering from a bit of a block.”  
  
It took me a moment to properly articulate myself, but I managed to find the words to describe what it was that had happened. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to include the possibility of inception, like the others wanted to believe, but neither my story nor my offered explanations shocked her in the slightest. She just patiently listened, nodding her head and taking everything in.  
  
“Well I can tell you that, inception or not, this is a problem that goes beyond the mind and the body. A block isn’t something trivial, I don’t want you to think about it like writer’s block. Do you know anything about Hinduism?”  
  
“Not very much.” I admitted, taking a sip of the drink. It didn’t taste like any tea I’d ever had, but it was definitely herbal. It had a strong bitter aftertaste that I tried to ignore.  
  
“There’s a belief in the religion of something referred to as _chakras_. In the context of Hinduism it has to do with metaphysical energy, emotions, and a higher state of being. The chakras correlate to specific locations on the body and consequently different emotions, and the general premise is that each of these chakras—or blocks—must be overcome in order to allow energy to flow all throughout you. It usually involves letting go of emotions or worldly attachments in order to move on to the next chakra. Are you following?”  
  
“I think so…” I understood it just fine, I was just having trouble understanding how this was going to help me get my warping back at all.  
  
“This is essential so I need you to grasp this concept fully, Saria. What you need to understand is that the block you are suffering from is within you, and can only be changed by you. Think of the power you used to have, all the power you hadn’t even unlocked yet, as a river. It used to run through you, head to toe, but through your ordeal a dam was put up. If you can dismantle the dam, the water can run again. If you can get rid of the block, your powers will return. Are you still following?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Good.” She got to her feet and crossed over to the other side of the room where there was a large cabinet. She opened the glass doors and started to rummage through the contents. There were different pendants and dried herbs and I thought I saw a frog moving around the back at one point. “I won’t lie to you, this isn’t going to be easy. It won’t be painful, but it would be much easier to heal a broken bone than it will be to heal a wounded spirit. Finish that drink and come with me.”  
  
I did as I was told, downing the drink and following her as she led me out the back door. Outside there was one of the most zen sitting areas I had ever seen. There was a pond with a small bit of land in the middle and a wooden bridge for a path. On the island a three foot high wooden deck had been put up, on top of which were blankets upon blankets and a dozen pillows. She left her shoes at the edge of the bridge and I mimicked her, walking barefoot across the bridge and sitting down at her command. She had a few incense sticks that she put into holders all around us and lit them up. She had strips of aluminum foil that she wrapped around my hands before sitting across from me.  
  
“I want you to remember what it was like to warp. Now I’m going to start moving the foil so don’t get excited, but pretend that it’s you. We’re going to a bit of an illusion to submerge yourself in the sensation of warping again. Take deep breaths. Focus on the sensations, on what it was like before. How you felt and how you heard and how you saw the world. You have to believe that this can be done, do you understand?”  
  
I nodded and she took my hands in hers. The foil began to move around, the little molecules shifting and rearranging and pushing up against my skin. It was beyond weird at first, considering I’d never attempted any form of meditation in my whole life. What the hell was I supposed to do? Just close my eyes and think about how great life was when I could warp metal things?  
  
Zora must’ve been able to sense how anxious I was and the frustration building inside of me, but she just smiled. It took a while for my body to relax and I started to pay more attention to the rest of my surroundings instead of the things going on in my mind. Everything was incredibly calm here, incredibly quiet. Somehow it managed to put me at peace more than anything else. The smell of the incense brushed by now and again, for once not smelling wholly manufactured.  
  
For the life of me I couldn’t tell how long we were out there but by the time the sun began to set I was exhausted. Zora looked pleased though, despite the fact that she had no words of praise. I didn’t need praise though. She’d set a clear rule that I needed to not be distracted which banned any form of conversation, but over the next few days I managed to find a loophole.  
  
Of course I caved and called him, barely letting him get out a hello before speaking. I explained that there was no need to be worried because I was fine, but that I technically wasn’t allowed to be talking to him. So he would stay silent for the duration of the call, not allowed to respond. That way I was essentially just talking to myself. Some days were harder than others. Sometimes I would tell him about what I’d done, but most days the both of us just stayed silent, listening to each other breathing and the background noise of what was going on. For some reason it still managed to make me feel better.  
  
I was put on a strict diet of home-grown food and a whole slew of herbal concoctions. Some of them tasted good but the majority had me longing for the days of gross cough syrup. There were a few times when we were out in the garden that I almost vomited after focusing for a while, but she promised that it was a good sign. It didn’t make any sense to me—drinking a bunch of earthy crap and thinking about metal for hours on end and trying not to let my mind wander back to other things, other people—but despite feeling any changes in me Zora said it was working.  
  
I spent almost as much time rolling the little red die as I did meditating. It was the only anchor I had really—that and the phone calls. Hearing the steady in and out of his breathing, the yelling of Eames in the background, the laughter of Yusuf, and the occasional question from Dom; every little bit helped. Zora found me one night in the bedroom I’d been given playing with the die. I’d counted fifty-nine Fours in a row. She stood in the doorway and started to smile at me. I returned the gesture but her eyes moved off to my left and back. Turning, the sight almost stopped my heart. The pen on the desktop was hovering in the air.  
  
“Is—Is that you?” I asked the question even though I felt the pen in the way I used to. I brought it over to me as she shook her head, marvelling at the sight of it.  
  
“Get some sleep. You’ve got a long way to go yet.”  
  
It was nearly impossible to sleep after that, though. I spent the majority of the night moving what little things I could, rejoicing at the feeling and musing at the way the feeling was coming back to me. The sixth sense, the sight beyond sight.  
  
Zora worked me even harder after the breakthrough, but there wasn’t a part of me that minded at all. She had me warping constantly, never letting me rest from sun up to sun down except for three thirty minute breaks. It was rigorous and exhausting and extremely trying but I managed to handle it. Mostly because of the knowledge that it was working. Whatever block I was chipping away at, it was working and I was feeling stronger every day.  
  
The practice, the healing, the whatever, it went far beyond anything I thought it would. I felt even more powerful than I’d been before. She kept pushing me more and more until I felt ready enough to lift her entire house if she wanted me to and not drop a single figurine. She said that I wasn’t’’ done yet, thought. Even when I felt colossal, even when I felt like not a thing in the world could ever stop me again, she said there was more.  
  
Zora started to change things up, submerging the metal in more and more organic matter until it actually became a task to warp it. She was trying to get me not to focus on moving the organic matter aside, but somehow move with it to access the metal. It baffled me for days on end but I pushed on at her command. She kept minimizing the amount of metal I was working with to make it increasingly harder. It infuriated me at first but I reached a point where the anger just melted away and I went with things. I just wanted to get home. I just wanted to be done. I was in the midst of moping when it happened. At first I didn’t believe it but she just smiled at me and nodded.  
  
The dirt and the grass that the metal had been buried in—they were floating.


	9. Storm

“You sure you’re going to be alright?” Staci asked as we pulled up to the house. The other cars were in the driveway and my heart was in a flutter, furious with the anticipation of finally being reunited with the others. My boys. I nodded and turned back to her, wrapping my arms around her and trying to properly convey how much I owed her, thanked her, would never have made it without her.  
  
“Give me a call sometime.” I told her as I pulled off my seat belt. “You know, when one of us isn’t going crazy or something.”  
  
“Gotcha, baby girl.” She smiled, kissing the top of my head before letting me go. I got my bags from the back and waved at her until she was a dot on the road. With a deep breath I turned to the door and unlocked it, letting it swing inside. My footsteps echoed as I went in, looking around for some sign of life.  
  
“Guess who’s back?” I called out into the massive house. My voice was the only one that came back to greet me. Part of me wondered if they were hiding somewhere to surprise me, but I took a minute to focus and realized that I couldn’t feel any of them in the house. Couldn’t feel _anyone_.  
  
My hands were steps ahead of my coherent mind, pressing the number sequence into the phone before I knew it was necessary. Arthur’s phone rang and rang and rang and rang. It wasn’t in the house—I would have been able to hear it—but as his pre-recorded voicemail message began to play I started to get nervous. I called Dom and Eames and Yusuf, but each of their phones were shut off completely.  
  
I tried not to panic, tried to remind myself that I could handle this. If I could just find them, everything would be fine. I was more than capable of pulling off a rescue mission—now more than ever. In the sunroom Dom’s laptop was lying on the glass table. Opening it up, I calmed myself enough to type in the website that Stephen had set up back in the day in case he ever needed to track one of us. It was one of those servers that gave the co-ordinates of the physical location to whatever cell-phone number you typed in. I tried not to think about the fact that if the boys were all in trouble and I’d just called Arthur, whoever was holding them could very well have heard the phone go off and destroyed it.  
  
The progress bar inched along the screen, taking what felt like an eternity to move at all. After screaming a few insults at the machine the blue bar zoomed and brought me to the next page with a map and location. I scribbled down the address, watching as the pulsing blue marker on the map blinked out of existence. I needed to hurry.  
  
Slamming the screen down I floated a pair of car keys to me and rushed out the door. I couldn’t drive fast enough, couldn’t weave in and out of the lanes quick enough to satisfy the panic rising in my chest. The location was some beer factory but the sight of two armed men at the doors when I pulled up confirmed my fears. They braced themselves and raised the firearms at me as the car skidded up beside them. Storming out of the car they started yelling for me to stop, that the place was closed. Before they could get any shots off I dismantled their guns and scattered the pieces, forcing them backwards against the doors and letting their unconscious bodies slide down into the gravel.  
  
Pushing open the doors, I stood for a moment in the defunct factory and took a reading of my surroundings. I noted the exits, the hiding spots, the multitude of metal, but paid particular attention to setting feelers out for people. I was finishing my sweep when the first round of bullets came at me. I stopped them in time and turned to find a trio of men on the balcony looking down at me.  
  
“I’m assuming from the gunfire you’re the ones holding my boys hostage?” I raised my eyebrows at them but they just backed into the manager’s office and shut the door as if it would actually hold me back. I found the staircase, slamming a man into the wall on my way, and went up to continue my conversation. With each step I could feel the power rising within me, the ability to command all of the elements that made up my world. It was up to me to control myself; up to me to hold back the oncoming storm.  
  
In the office the three men were cowering at the back and sent off a new shower of bullets. I just stood there, shredding their ammunition into dust and letting it fall to the ground like snowflakes. They dropped their weapons one by one and I swallowed once before speaking.  
  
“I’ll give you one chance to tell me who you’re working for. If you keep silent or lie to me I will quite literally tear you limb from limb. Who is it?”  
  
They stayed silent, looking between each other nervously. I waited three, five, ten seconds before sighing. Singling the middle one out, I pulled him towards me and kept him still as he tried to writhe out of my grip. Looking the other two in the eyes I raised my brows at them. When they still kept quiet I turned to the man and started to push his humerus bone out of his skin. He let out an ear-piercing scream that rattled the others, blood spurting out of his arm and soaking onto the floor. As his blood pooled and started to edge closer to the others one of them finally spoke.  
  
“ _It’s Browning!_ ” He cried, shaking. “P-Peter Browning. Please, m-make it stop!”  
  
With a nod I put the bone back and let the man fall to the floor, turning on my heel and leaving the three of them where they were. When I went back downstairs I wandered through the factory until I came to another door.  
  
I could sense all of them. The boys and the ones holding them there against their will. Inside they were muttering between each other, trying to repeatedly get a hold of whoever I’d knocked out on the way in. They were scared—and I liked it. Pressing my palms to the doors I sent them flying off their hinges, walking in furiously as they clanged against the cement floor.  
  
The whole place was full of giant metal drums; they lined the place in neat little rows and must have been used for holding all the beer. I started to walk down the rows until I caught sight of my boys. They were bound to chairs with thick rope that looked like it was cutting into their skin. I started rushing towards them, desperate to free them and then rip apart the people responsible for doing this to them. I noticed the fact that Dom wasn’t among them as I got closer, but when they noticed me Arthur began to scream for me to stop. He told me it was a trap, he told me to run.  
  
Some part of me expected some form of planned attack on their part but I wasn’t worried in the slightest, not with the power that I had. Sure enough as I got closer four men came out from behind some of the tanks. They were holding big panels of plywood that they rushed to close around me. Pressing them together, they stuck to form a box around me. I had to applaud them; under previous circumstances it might’ve been enough to slow me down for a while.  
  
“Look all we want is information.” One of them said, their voice muffling as it tried to pass through the wood. “So when you wake up again you’ll be a little less comfortable, but it’s necessary.”  
  
I put my fingertips up against the wood, feeling my way through each of the woodchips smashed together to compose it. With a deep breath I closed my eyes and separated them all, hovering them in the air just far enough apart to see the look on their faces. When I sent the pieces flying they all took a step back out of fear, but the sight of the drug in one of the man’s hands that would have been used on me sent me into a fury. With a flick of my hand they all flew against the metal drums. I used metal from the drums to wrap around their wrists, ankles, and mouths.  
  
Going up to the nearest one I began to frisk his pockets for any radio or cellphone or weapon. I did this with the other three, and let the walkie-talkies and phones hover in the air in front of them. The phones all belonged to my boys so I separated them, but completely destroyed the radios.  
  
“I should kill you. All of you. But frankly it wouldn’t be worth my energy. If I ever see your faces again I’ll make the time, do you understand me? Blink once for yes.”  
  
Each of them closed their lids just once and I nodded. When I tore my eyes away from them I started to walk towards my boys again. I let the ropes fall to the ground and went to Yusuf, the closest, to start inspecting the extent of his injuries. It was mostly just a bit of rope burn where they’d been bound but Eames had his face bloodied up pretty bad.  
  
“How the bloody hell did you find us?” The forger asked as I wiped some of the red stuff off his skin. He brushed my hands away but I ignored his question.  
  
“Where’s Dom?” I helped Arthur up, brushing my fingertips over the blooming bruise on his jaw as he nodded to a door at the other end of room. I made sure to return their cellphones before preparing myself for the last battle. I meant to go the long way around but I could feel them on the other side of the wall and decided to make a shortcut. Going up to the brick wall in front of me I traced an outline of a doorway and took a step back.  
  
The bricks within the door I’d imagined began to shake and all at once fell away. A cloud of dust erupted into the air that I ignored completely and went marching through. There were two figures inside: I only cared about one. When I could see more clearly I looked at the man holding the extractor captive. He was holding a glass weapon against Dom’s throat, but what worried me more was the state Dom was in. His head was down and I could see blood stains—on his shirt and on the glass blade. His face was worse than Eames’ and all I could think about was the very real possibility of internal bleeding.  
  
“Stay back!” The man cried out, hand shaking as he gripped the glass. “I swear, I’ll kill him!”  
  
Somehow, his words seemed to infuriate me even more. How dare he threaten someone I cared about? How dare he be that _stupid_? It was almost offensive. But the flash of anger resolved into determination. I took a step forward as the others wandered into the room. I let the man watch as I slowly turned his only defense into minute particles of useless dust.  
  
He looked up at me for a brief moment before trying to run. I sent him flying back against a pillar, making him rise up until his feet no longer touched the ground. Lifting up my hand, I stood a few feet away from him and commanded the tube in his throat to start constricting. His eyes grew wide and he began to claw at his throat, feet thrashing against the pillar in a frail attempt to save himself. The colour on his face was changing as his oxygen levels depleted, the life slipping away from him.  
  
“Saria, you’re killing him.” Arthur said quietly from behind me. Somehow his voice acted like a trigger and I withdrew every ounce of power that I was using. The man collapsed to the ground on all fours, gasping for air and shaking. There was a cough behind me, though, and the anger quickly seeped out of me as I remembered Dom. I crossed over to him, freeing him completely and gently pushing up his head so he could look at me.  
  
“Dom? Dom can you hear me?” His head kept lolling, completely incoherent. I turned back to the others, trying to remain calm. “Yusuf, do you think you’ll be able to drive to the hospital?”  
“I-I think so.” He nodded, eyes glued to the coughing man on the ground. I called his attention back to me and made sure he was focused.  
  
“There’s some cars out front, in the office upstairs three men are hiding. Tell them I said to give you the keys. The nearest hospital is about fourteen blocks East from here. Get there as fast as you can—I’ll find you when I’m finished.”  
  
“Finished?” Arthur asked as I began to walk away. Eames and Yusuf were hauling the fading extractor to his feet as gently as possible. “Where are you going?”  
  
“To take this up with Peter Browning.” I said simply, turning away from him. He started to follow after me, matching my pace. “I don’t need you to come with me, Arthur. You need to go to the hospital to make sure you’re alright.”  
  
He said nothing but continued to follow me nonetheless. There was a part of me—and no small part at that—which was glad he didn’t listen. We got into the car silently and didn’t speak a word as I floored it to the address I had memorized long ago. Back when I used to fantasize about having my powers back and going on a revenge run just like this. Back when I thought I actually knew a damn thing about the extent of my powers. Before I had gone through the door, not just opened it a crack.  
Having the point man there, as just a physical presence, made everything better. I wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted to throw my arms around him, but I had to keep my target at the forefront of my mind. I knew that if I gave in just slightly I would be lost in the overwhelming emotion and attachment I had for this one individual.  
  
The address was for a fancy condominium building, complete with doorman and everything. He smiled at us until he saw the bruise on Arthur’s face, then he subconsciously moved in front of the door. I knocked him out entirely and let us into the building, ignoring the gasps from the people walking by. Walking right up to the elevators, I forced the nearest one down to our level and made the people inside get out. When Arthur was inside I warned him to brace himself before I shot us up to the penthouse suite.  
  
I gave him a moment to settle himself and then led the way to the only door on the level: the target. Forcing the door off its hinges I went inside, coming face to face with Browning himself as he stared from the couch. He had a handful of chips half way to his mouth, but he let them fall away as his eyes flickered to a drawer to his right.  
  
“Get up.” I commanded, forcing the door open and destroying the gun he was keeping inside. He hesitated a moment before getting to his feet. I nodded over to the wall and he slowly walked over, eyes stuck on me. He put his back to the drywall and straightened up in some feeble attempt to look dignified.  
  
He almost looked pathetic, standing there. His clothes were casual and the suite was showing a lot of signs of being well lived in. It was his home, and he was completely alone. He didn’t look so terrifying without a host of hired guns behind him. He wasn’t so scary without his rogue warper.  
  
“Do you remember me?” I asked calmly, standing in front of him and leaning on the back of the couch. He nodded twice, hands trembling slightly. “And you understand why I’m here?”  
  
“My guys fucked up.” He chortled in a half-desperate tone. I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest.  
  
“I’ve dealt with your guys. My issue is they were following your orders. My issue is you’re responsible for harming people who are very dear to me. I’m here to make sure it won’t ever happen again.”  
  
He didn’t try and persuade me otherwise, which meant he knew very well the severity of his mistake. It was a huge gamble trying to incept me, and although it initially paid off it was a short-term win. Now he was paying the price. I walked over to him and put my palm on his chest, curling my fingers and constricting his heart. His eyes went wide and his fingers clawed at the wall behind him, terror taking hold of him as easily as I did.  
  
“That’s the feeling of your heart stopping, Mister Browning.” I tightened my grip more and more, imagining the sight of the muscle shrinking.  
  
“ _Stop!_ ” A voice called out from behind me. I kept my grip, watching the old man slowly die, as I faced Fisher. He was overtaken by fear at the sight of his godfather. “P-Please, don’t hurt him. What-Whatever he did, he won’t do it again. _Jesus_ , please! H-He’s all I have left.”  
  
I looked back at the man, so completely ready to destroy him. So ready to make him feel the fear I felt when I thought I was going to die, when I thought my boys were going to die. But the point man reached out and slipped his hand into mine, gripping it lightly and easing the anger out of me. I had to remember that he was with me and he was fine and that in a sense what Browning did made me stronger than ever. I let my grip fall, the man slumping over and struggling to restart his body. Fischer ran over to help him as I looked down at them.  
  
“Get him up.” I commanded, watching as the old man was lifted to his feet. When he was coherent I carved three marks into his neck as a reminder and stared him in the eye. “I’m sparing you for your godson. If you even consider doing anything like this again—to _anyone_ —I will break every bone in your body and rip out your heart with my bare hands.”  
  
The both of them stared blankly at me and I turned away, smashing one of the lamps for good measure as the point man followed after me. We made it into the elevator and I pressed the button for the lobby. I took deep breaths in and closed my eyes, coming down from the power rush as the elevator inched down. The point man squeezed my hand and I turned to him, hesitating for a moment before wrapping my arms around his neck. He held me tightly against him as I relished in the contact, almost forgetting how horridly I’d missed him. How hard it had been to leave at the beginning. The elevator slowed until I stopped it entirely, not wanting to be interrupted by a single person.  
  
I tried to put into words how much I’d missed him, that I never would have been able to make it through the transition without the phone calls. Without him. Whether or not he was able to understand any of my mumbling was beyond me, but he pulled away to bring our lips together. I wanted nothing more than to stay there forever, but even as he deepened the kiss I knew we had places to be. People to check up on. There was time for us to be together without revenge schemes being plotted. We would be close for years to come.  
  
When we finally parted I brought the elevator back down and we me up with the others at the hospital. Dom had been taken into surgery but Eames and Yusuf were nearly done being checked up. The chemist found me first, welcoming me with a hug and thanking me for getting them out of their situation. He led us to the forger and when he was done getting stitched up he came over and put his arms around me. His lips met my forehead and he managed a joke to avoid the overly-emotional things we both probably wanted to say. It was hard seeing him all beat up like that; I wanted to ask what the hell he’d done to get the worst of it but figured I could fill in the blanks. I could practically hear all the sarcastic comments that he’d made that just would have pissed the guys off more and more.  
  
The four of us were notified when Dom was out of surgery and were allowed to wait at his bedside. I remembered the phone in my pocket that belonged to him and took it out, turning it back on despite the no-cellphone-policy. There was a missed call from someone named Miles and voicemail. I redialed the number and listened as an older man answered.  
  
“Mister Miles? My name’s Saria, I’m a colleague of Mister Cobb’s. He’s going to be tied up for a few weeks so if you had any business proposals going back and forth unfortunately they’ll have to be put on hold.”  
  
“Is…Is it bad?” The man asked after a moment with sincerity that caught me completely off guard. “He’s my son-in-law. Please, I need to know.”  
  
“He’s going to be fine.” I assured him. “There was an incident but he’s just finished up surgery and he should be alright after a few weeks of resting. I could give you the address of the hospital, although I doubt he’ll want to stay here for any proper length of time.”  
  
He agreed, letting out something between a laugh and a cry. In the background I could hear the sound of children bickering and clued into the fact that this was the man who, along with his wife, looked after James and Phillipa while Dom was off securing enough money to become a full-time father. When I hung up I pulled up a chair beside the extractor and closed my hands around his.  
  
It took a few hours (and a whole lot of crappy coffees) but Dom finally stirred, eyes parting slightly but closing again against the intensity of the hospital lighting. He eased his eyes into focus and looked around at the group and the setting and finally at me. He tried to speak but his throat was too dry at first. I helped him drink some water and moved the bed so he was sitting up. He looked down at the IV and horrible hospital gown with disdain, but when he looked back over at me it was with a sudden remembrance of the events that brought him here.  
  
“Browning’s men—”  
  
“They won’t be bothering us again.” I promised, trying not to cry at the sight of him. I hadn’t really given myself a chance to consider the possibility that Dom wouldn’t make it. It would have ruined me, would have made me incredibly weak. But now that he was alright, the fear of what _could have been_ was attacking my conscious and making me panic. I brushed some of the hair out of his eyes but kept a firm grip on his hand.  
  
“She sent a pretty clear message.” Arthur teased from behind me. I relayed the conversation I’d had with Miles and made sure there was nothing I could get or do for him in the meantime. Eventually Eames pulled his chair closer, flipping it around so he could lean forward on the back of the chair.  
  
“Now that we’re all safe and stitched,” Eames began with a flicker of a smirk. “Can we _please_ address the fact that our little Saria is back in business?”  
  
“You should have seen her, Dom.” Yusuf said enthusiastically, a childish grin taking over his features as he looked over at me. “She can move _anything_ , now, not just metal. She’s a whole new breed of warper.”  
  
“So the treatment worked, then.” The extractor said gently. I smiled and nodded, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand. Eames piped up asking how it all worked, and I tried to give them a brief overview of what I went through. Some of it was harder to put into words than others, but I managed to explain the majority of it. I talked about the first moment I was able to warp again, and how it felt when Zora helped me push past even _that_ barrier.  
  
“It’s like…it feels like some part of you is opened up. Like there was an entire part of you—and the world—that you couldn’t even fathom before. Like seeing colours that you didn’t know existed, that kind of thing. But then of course I come home all excited only to find out I have to go Calypso on a bunch of hired guns.”  
  
“Well needless to say if you hadn’t, I don’t think some of us would have been here much longer.” Arthur said, looking at Dom and Eames. “They wanted us to undo the inception, but the initial job is hard enough as it is. Reversing it would be…Regardless, they seemed a lot more eager to throw punches than let us talk. A pretty odious bunch considering the fact we’d never in fact met.”  
  
“I’m sorry, odious?” Eames questioned, unimpressed.  
  
“Unpleasant.” I substituted, smiling to myself. Arthur’s hand was on my shoulder and I took comfort in the fact that we were all here together, we were all safe and we always would be; for as long as I would be around to make sure.


	10. Calm

There were so many reasons why I didn’t want to get up. I tried to ignore the blaring red numbers that spelled out how much closer I was edging to the alarm time, but their presence was all-too pronounced. The point man’s arm was draped around my waist, his fingers absently laced with mine. They twitched now and again while he dreamt of unknown things, but I took solace in the fact that he was at peace.  
  
In less than fifteen minutes the whole team would be getting up to drive Yusuf to the airport. A last farewell before he made a plane back to Mombasa. I didn’t like thinking about the fact that I would have to give up seeing him every day, that I would have to give up seeing _all_ of them every day. These boys had become as important to me as Staci, and now I was supposed to agree with being severed from them.  
  
No one really talked about it but I was sure it was on their minds. We’d all gotten so used to each other that I couldn’t imagine going back to an empty room and picking up small jobs with other dream sharers. How could anyone ever compare to my boys? I didn’t want Yusuf to go because as soon as he did, it would start the ripple effect of everyone else leaving.  
  
As soon as the chemist got onto that plane it would start the countdown. We would be starting the last job without him and in a few days’ time the goodbyes would be rolling. I refused to bring up the subject, least of all with Arthur. We hadn’t discussed in the slightest what the end of my contract meant for us. When I went back to working for Stephen would he come with me? Would we try long-distance? Would I drop everything to go with him?  
  
Thinking about it made me nauseous so I turn in his grasp and curled up against him. He stirred in his sleep, lips finding my forehead as his hand tangled into my hair. I sighed heavily, wishing this could last forever. This moment of comfort and sunlight breaking over the horizon and a quietness outside that rivalled deafness. The warmth of the bed and his arms and the comfort of his existence. What was the use of anything else in the world when it could barely attempt at measuring up to this?  
  
I traced my fingers back and forth along his collarbones, trying to be as gentle as possible so I wouldn’t wake him. It felt like each second that passed by brought me one step closer to losing him. Like I needed to use each breath to memorize every last part of him. I could close my eyes and feel his heart beating and his lungs expanding and the blood rushing all throughout his body. It was hard to get used to at first, separating thoughts from action, but I was able to get used to it. Enough to feel confident that I wouldn’t accidentally explode one of them when I meant to bring my coffee mug closer.  
  
“What time is it?” he asked in a sleepy voice, body constricting around me to the point where I wanted to cry. I would never be ready to part from him. Before I had a chance to answer the alarm went off and I rolled over to shut it off. He pulled me back immediately and held me against him as a gentle sigh escaped his lungs. I pressed my lips to the base of his neck as he rubbed my back.  
  
“What were you dreaming about?”  
  
“I can’t really remember…But I think it was good. Not as good as this, though.”  
  
“There are plenty of things better than waking up early to say a goodbye.” The words came out before I could stop them, so I wiggled out of his grasp to avoid any lingering silence. Heading into the bathroom, I quickly showered and got myself cleaned up. By the time I was done Arthur was half dressed and needing to get in, so I went out and made myself presentable before going downstairs to make some coffee. Eames was already sitting at the island in the kitchen, sipping from a mug while he looked over the newspaper.  
  
“Morning.” He smiled, flipping pages as I poured myself a mug and sat beside him. I read over his shoulder until everyone else made it into the kitchen. I offered a coffee to Yusuf but he declined, choosing instead to go through his suitcase a second time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.  
  
It wasn’t long after when Dom said it was time for us to head out. We all piled into the bigger car, Dom taking the wheel with Eames riding shotgun. I sat between Arthur and Yusuf in the back, trying to reassure the chemist that if he _had_ somehow forgotten something I would make sure it was sent over to him. He spent the majority of the drive to the airport telling me about all the places he would take me to when I came to visit. The Gedi Ruins, all the beaches, but more importantly the secret parts of the city that were so far untouched by tourists.  
  
All the while Arthur’s hand enveloped mine, his thumb absently rubbing over the back of it as he launched into a discussion with the chemist about the ruins. We were even able to joke about the fact that if I ever ended up making Peter Browning explode, I’d make sure to let him know. But it was all the bittersweet banter you expect from a goodbye journey. It’s all too obvious that it would be farewell for a while and it was just so much easier to make small talk than admit to that fact.  
  
We had to drive around a while in the parking lot before finding a spot, but eventually we did and the five of us unloaded from the vehicle and made our way into the airport. It was ridiculously busy, people wandering and rushing in a million directions. Children were screaming and crying, and I was pretty sure and entire family that passed us was sick.  
  
“I’ve got a very strong urge to _make_ these people move.” I said in a low voice to the point man as we waited to the side while Yusuf went up to check his luggage in. Arthur just laughed and pulled me a little closer. We could only accompany the chemist up to a point and then it was time to face the inevitable. The group of us sort of lingered for a minute before he heaved out a sigh and started to make his rounds. He shook hands with the boys and they all made promises of keeping in touch and wished him a good trip. When he finally came to me we paused for a moment and then I wrapped my arms around him. “I will be genuinely offended if you don’t call.”  
  
“Goes both ways, warper.” He teased, pulling away. “Is that even an appropriate term anymore? You’re like an Alpha-warper. Mega-warper—oh, that sounds awesome.”  
  
“Shut up.” I stifled a smile and punched him in the arm lightly. When the laughter died he reached for his carry on and gave us all one last goodbye before leaving. We stayed until he was out of sight and then collectively made our way back to the car. In the backseat I sighed and leaned against Arthur, taking comfort in the way his arm went around me but trying all the same not to think about what its absence would feel like (and how I would at some point have to get used to it).  
  
“Does anyone have objections to a bit of breakfast?” Dom asked from the front seat as he merged onto the highway. Of course we were all fine with it and I registered the feeling in my stomach as hunger.  
  
The extractor drove until we reached a little café and pulled into a spot right outside the doors. The place wasn’t very busy at all which just made it nicer. Inside it was running with a French theme, but thankfully it wasn’t the sort of establishment that went as far as making the waiters wear berets. We were seated outside on the patio and had the entire place to ourselves. The waiter left us with some menus and I scanned mine, looking for whatever sounded good.  
  
After we’d placed our orders (whether the stack of pancakes I settled on was because of my hunger or my desire to bury my sadness in sugar was a mystery) and received our drinks I tried to put the thoughts out of my mind. Dom cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair across from me.  
  
“I know it’s not always the most pleasant thing to talk about work, but there’s one issue I want to address first.” He began, casually taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “This is, for all intents and purposes, the standard extraction job. One level deep. But before Yusuf left he told me that one of his brothers—who works in our industry—heard something about Takuma. Now it isn’t a guarantee but he might have changed his name, and that may be who trained our mark. It’s hard to tell, but I just want to be sure that you’re fully aware and prepared.”  
  
“Trust me Dom, with the mojo I’ve got flowing inside of me it’s this guy who should be worried.” I smirked, clamping the straw between my teeth as I took a drink. “You have my word that there will be no more blackouts from your mega-warper.”  
  
“You’re really going with that title, then?” Eames challenged, raising his eyebrows at me.  
  
“It is _so_ badass. Don’t try to deny that. _Darling_.” We fell silent for a while when the food came but about midway through the meal Dom looked like he was going to speak again.  
  
“There’s one more thing.” He said, eyes quickly moving to Arthur and then back to me. “I don’t want you to feel pressured at all, but we’ve been talking about what’s to happen after we finish this last job. It didn’t take much thought on our part but it’s completely understandable if you need some time to think about it.”  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Well, I’m proposing that you formally sever your contract with Stephen and come work for me on a free-lance basis.” I stared at him, half expecting there to be some punch line to a joke, but none came. “Like I said, take as much time as you need.”  
  
“I would _love_ to.” I blurted out, making a smile systematically spread onto each of their faces. “I’ll call Stephen as soon as I get back to work out the details and everything.”  
  
My stomach was churning with a mixture of anticipation and excitement until we got back to the house. It didn’t bother me anymore that it would be the last few days I had in this place. I would’ve given it up a million times if it meant I could stay with these people. I called Stephen and although he was definitely sad to see me go, he acknowledged that he couldn’t have me forever. When my contract with Dom expired I would go back and we’d do all the legal paperwork and such.  
  
I was sitting on the bed calculating the hours left until Yusuf’s plane landed so I could know when I could call him. There was a pressure on the mattress behind me and point man crawled to my side, pushing my hair back and kissing my neck. I leaned back against him and he moved so we were both lying down more comfortably. He was running his hand through my hair and I could have lived like that for a century without growing tired of it. But suddenly his voice was booming against my ear as I pressed it to his chest.  
  
“If you want to…I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed this at all but…If you’d like, you can come stay with me when the contract expires. At my place.”  
  
“You—You mean like move it together?” I asked, pushing myself up over him. He hesitated a moment before responding, as if trying to read my reaction.  
  
“If you think it’s too fast or anything—”  
  
“Don’t be stupid.” I said quickly, trying to contain the grin on my face. “I think that’d be great.”  
He smiled and pulled me towards him, kissing me. I lowered myself onto his chest and he held me tighter against him until the door opened. I pushed myself up to glare at the forger who stood smirking in the doorway.  
  
“So sorry to interrupt.” He said with no remorse in his voice whatsoever. “But we have a robbery to plan, yeah?”  
  
I rolled my eyes, sighing heavily as I got to my feet. Arthur followed after, straightening his clothes as we headed to the door. He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me back at the last moment and kissing me again. When he pulled away his eyes lingered on mine for a minute and then he led the way down the stairs. I knew that even when the honeymoon phase was over, even when we went through the inevitable phase of loathing the littlest things about one another, we would always come back to this. We would always come back to each other.


End file.
